


The Fate of Skywalker

by scruffynerfherder



Series: Disney Trilogy Fix-It [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And That’s Okay, Angst with a Happy Ending, Ben Solo may feel out of character, Ben Solo/Cade Skywalker parallels, Ben Solo/Darth Caedus parallels, Ben Solo’s love life is trash like his uncle before him, Bendemption, F/M, Finn and Poe are soft cinnamon rolls, M/M, Mentions of past drug abuse, Out of Character Ben Solo, Out of Character Kylo Ren, Post- Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Reylo/Stormpilot HEA, if you’ve never read the TFA novelization, more of a Episode VIII and IX alternative, or the Rise of Kylo Ren comics, or we may have different opinions of his character, was meant to be a post-TROS fix it but here we are
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:47:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 70,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24674095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scruffynerfherder/pseuds/scruffynerfherder
Summary: Taking place a year after the events of The Force Awakens, Kylo Ren has been missing for the past eight months, last spotted on Jakku with his reassembled Knights of Ren. Meanwhile, The First Order continues their relentless pursuit for full military control of the galaxy after the decimation of the New Republic. The Resistance continues to stand in the face of the rising new Empire, holding onto hope that  Luke Skywalker will return despite Rey’s failure to convince the Jedi Master to join the fight.Resistance hero Rey and Champion leader of the First Order Kylo Ren have kept their strange connection that forged in the mist of the interrogation room on StarKiller Base a secret from others but now this all comes to a head when Kylo Ren returns to the fight after sensing a new evil lurking in the Unknown Regions. Their paths collide again and they are forced to face their realties of their bond and their intertwined fate.A Legacy AU
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Mentions of past Ben Solo/other(s), Poe Dameron/Finn, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Series: Disney Trilogy Fix-It [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1784008
Comments: 13
Kudos: 28





	1. Luke on Ahch-To (Dreaming on Coruscant)/Rey, Finn, Poe in Wild Space/Kylo in the Finalizer

**Author's Note:**

> Hello beautiful people of AO3!  
> You have stumbled onto our Disney Trilogy Fix it series and we hope it brings you as much joy as it brought us writing it.  
> Fun fact, This little story was created during a two hour conversation after watching the atrocity that was TROS as we where both greatly disappointed with the way all the characters arcs ended, as well as the overall treatment of the Skywalker family and legacy throughout the Disney Trilogy. We originally set out to a write a TROS-fix it, but after the many retcons DLF issued since the release of TROS we decided to scrap it and rewrite episode 8 and 9. We did what DLF couldn’t (kidding but not really) and planned out a cohesive story taking place after the events of TFA and kept certain themes and events from TLJ.  
> We also took certain key characters and events from the EU known as legends, such as Luke's established New Jedi Order and the New Republic and merged it with canon along with original characters and events we created to tell a story that we both thought was original and compliant with Star Wars lore. The storyline is heavily influenced by the EU comics “Legacy.”  
> Disclaimer y’all, we wrote this based on the direction WE wished the Disney trilogy had gone after TFA. So if at any point you disagree with the characterizations of certain characters or events of the story and you no longer wish to continue reading, that is totally a okay! There are plenty of lovely fics on AO3 that will match what you’re looking for.  
> Per the tags, this story is a stormpilot and Reylo endgame, so if you have a problem with either of these ships, this story might not be for you. Later on once we’re done writing our series we’ll be writing a one shot story in an alternative timeline where the ships will be different that will tie in to an idea we have for our version of post-IX.  
> We also shortened Rey and Ben’s age gap from a ten years difference to four because Adam looked like a soft baby in TFA. BUT regardless of the shorter age difference between our two space babies, we decided that four years was still a pretty significant age gap so there are mentions through out the story of Ben Solo's previous love interests prior to Rey. He’s getting the full Skywalker-Solo treatment guys. #trashloveliverights  
> If anyone has read the Legacy comics, then you know who Cade Skywalker is. We drew inspiration from him, along with the OG Solo child Jacen Solo/Darth Caedus, and Ben Skywalker to rewrite Ben Solo’s fall and backstory.  
> Lastly, we used the help of the movie novelizations, comics and books from both canon and legends to help us write our story. We will be citing at the end notes what we took or where inspired by, to give credits to the vast material the expanded universe had to offer.  
> We will also be posting a Young Jedi Knights/Fate of the Jedi AU series on Ben Solo’s time at Luke’s Jedi academy at some point to go hand in hand with this story for anyone who would like to see what we envisioned for Luke’s Jedi Academy, the New Jedi Order and who Ben Solo was prior to becoming Kylo Ren.  
> We hope you stick around!  
> Love,  
> A and E

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…  
 **STAR WARS  
Episode VIII  
THE FATE OF SKYWALKER**  
  


The FIRST ORDER reigns. Having decimated the peaceful New Republic, Supreme Leader Snoke now deploys his merciless legions to seize military control of the galaxy. Led by newly appointed Allegiant General Hux, they already have the majority of the Outer Rim within their grasp.

  
Only General Leia Organa’s brave RESISTANCE fighters stand against the rising tyranny. Despite Rey failing to convince him, Leia is certain that her brother, Jedi Master Luke Skywalker, will return and restore a spark of hope to the fight.

  
Meanwhile, Kylo Ren has reassembled his ruthless Knights of Ren and senses an unseen sinister force stirring in the UNKNOWN REGIONS as he intercepts our new band of heroes on their way to a rescue mission....  
  
  


* * *

**PROLOGUE  
  
**

“Whatever it is you’re worrying about, _don’t_.”  
Luke Skywalker hummed, lacing his fingers through his wife’s hand before taking another step in the copious wet sand. Together, they walked past a rambling stand of crawling slii, an assemblage of knotted roots and giant gauze-like leaves.  
The island’s cool evening reminded him of the rare occurrences he looked forward to as a young boy on Tatooine. When the twin blazing suns would set simultaneously, he would take his shoes off, basking in the way the fine orange grains seeped and nipped between his toes, feeling embolden enough to imagine a life where he was at the flight academy, or anywhere really that wasn’t the moisture farm. Always mindful of course, that his uncle Owen didn’t catch him. Luke had been reprimanded enough times to commit his Uncle’s “Luke, there’s a reason shoes were created in the first place” lecture to memory.  
“Ben is fine, Luke. He’s with Meredith. She wouldn’t let him do anything dangerous.”  
Luke raised a brow, a mischievous flicker danced at the corner of his mouth. “Mmm,” Luke silently agreed, tapping one finger lightly to his bottom lip, “except you're forgetting one thing.”  
“Oh? And what would that be farm boy?” She playfully teased, stopping to trail her fingers down her husband’s face.  
Luke leaned into her touch, pressing his lips to the pulse point of her wrist. He drank in the sight of the way his wife’s red, golden tresses fluttered against the cool gentle breeze, the handful of freckles scattered graciously around her delicate nose and the apple of her cheeks, and the way her emerald green eyes shimmered underneath the Coruscant deep red evening skyline, embellished by lights from air cars and starships, following their assigned path to their different destinations. “That there are very few things Meredith considers dangerous,” he mused.  
“You sound like your sister.” She laughed before leaning in to kiss him. Luke rested his forehead against hers, chasing that dulcet sound with another kiss when she pulled away. “We did good you know.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, locking her eyes with his. “I admire your sister. But...” she frowned, “she’s a politician, so she thinks like one. And while that’s been good for the galaxy, I can’t say the same for Ben.”  
“I know,” Luke ruefully sighed, “her career kept her away from home, and Han was, well, Han. I don’t think either were ready for their only child to have powers of that magnitude at such a young age, or all those voices in his head, or the nightmares of Vader and the dark man. Saying Ben’s childhood was a trial for all of them is an understatement. You know, Leia wanted to name him Anakin. To show the galaxy that we could heal from the scars of the war and forgive and move on. Just as she had forgiven our father. Han was against it, so instead they settled on Ben. As a symbol of hope to the galaxy. Because that’s what old Ben was to her. Her only hope. And that name, well, it placed a constraint on the choices Ben had in life. He was so lonely. He had Meredith and Raynar but I don’t think that was ever enough until he got older. Then there was Snoke. Always watching from the shadows. We almost lost him....”  
“But we didn’t, Luke. We won the war,” she responded fiercely, her expression a mix of determination and ferocity he had come to associate with his wife. “When your sister and Han dropped Ben off at the Academy, you said it would be years before we learned the full consequences of Snoke twisting his mind from such a young age. And now we have it: Ben is no longer that same broken little boy. He’s a man now, a good man who overcame his fear of walking down the same dark path as your father did. Ben is a Jedi Master and the Sword of the Jedi. It’s all thanks to you.”  
“And you.”  
“Yes, but mostly you,” she chided. “It was your love and patience that broke through Snoke’s brainwashing. Ben considers you to be the father he never had. He’s told you this plenty of times.”  
Luke chuckled, “I think Han will always resent me for that. But hey, Leia tells me he’s been making an effort to talk to Ben more. With the wedding coming up soon-“  
“Ah yes,” she rolled her eyes before flashing a wistful smile. “The _wedding_.”  
Luke’s eyebrows creased disconcertingly. “You think Ben’s making a mistake,” he accused.  
She shrugged, her voice brimming with mirth, “Honestly? I love Meredith to death, she’s a lovely girl. But I was always rooting for Goggles. Ben was so sweet with her when they were kids.”  
He chuckled lightly, amused at her confession. “I think Goggles is past the age where you can keep calling her that.”  
She laughed again, a sound so contagious that the smile tugging at Luke’s lip turned into a grin. She dipped her foot in the sudden fresh wavelets lapping onto the beach, before playfully kicking a little water on the cuff of his pants. “How I’ve missed you Luke,” she confessed. “That’s why I brought you here. To my favorite memory of us when we were together,” she stroked his shoulders lightly. “I was happy here.”  
Luke felt the lump in his throat. “You’re not really here, are you? This is just a dream.”  
“Yes.”  
Her gazed downcast, averting his eyes.  
“I’m sorry.”  
“And Ben’s not about to marry Meredith. She died eight years ago.”  
“I know.”  
“And Ben’s not a Jedi Master. The Academy was destroyed and Snoke… he won in the end.”  
“Luke-”  
“I failed. My mistake pushed Ben over the edge and I couldn’t save him. I couldn’t save Ben. Just like I couldn’t save you-” his voice cracked. “Forgive me. Please.”  
“Hey,” she placed a hand at the nape of his neck, bringing her lips to his, kissing him hard. “Don’t say that, Luke. Snoke… he’s far from won.”  
“But Ben-”  
“Is a Skywalker with the heart of a scoundrel and the blood of a princess. He may not be a Jedi Master, but he is a Jedi Knight. The Sword of the Jedi. Lando said his defiance would shake the stars, remember?”  
Luke laughed cynically. “I don’t think this is what Lando had in mind. Ben killed Han. His own _father_. There’s no coming back from that.”  
“You believed in me when no one else did. Just as you believed in your father. Granted, me nor Vader committed patricide,” she snorted. “But I did get close to killing you a couple of times there.”  
“It was that one time!”  
She giggled. “Whatever you say, love.”  
His expression softened, and she ran her fingers through his blonde hair.   
“No one is ever really gone, Luke. A wise, handsome man once told me that.”  
He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close. He buried his face in the crook of her neck. “ _Stay_ ,” he pleaded, his voice almost inaudible.  
“I wish I could,” her lashes fluttered against his cheek, “but it’s time for you to wake up now.”  
He kissed her again, for all she was worth. Allowing the taste of her lips to silence all thoughts, to bring back a warmth he had not sensed since her death. It was Luke’s last desperate attempt to avoid the inevitable.  
“I love you, Farmboy,” she whispered, her lips brushing gently against his. “Goodbye, Luke.”

  
— 

Luke Skywalker awoke with a start, scampering up to a seated position at such neck breaking speed, it caused his mechanical hand to whir in protest at the exertion. The Coruscant skyline from his dream had faded and been replaced by the dark four walls of his hut that seem to close in on him. He heard the long continuous trills and short pure tone chirps of the insects that inhabited Ahch-To and the early movements of the caretakers prepping the morning meal. He could smell the faint aroma of spices his Aunt Berru had used for her giju stew.  
He should probably start getting dressed. There were chores that needed tending. Fish that needed to be caught, milk to harvest, loose stones in the huts or steps that needed to be put back just right. He wondered if his Uncle Owen would be proud that the young boy who had groaned his way through his chores on Tatooine now thrived on the structure they provided as an adult.  
Anakin Skywalker and Padme Amidala may have been his biological father and mother. But the Lars had been his parents. He carried their deaths with him, everywhere he went. Just like he carried the deaths of those lost in the war and the destruction of the Jedi Academy. Just like he carried the death of his wife. He still felt her, lingering. Her love and understanding continued to pour through the Force, cutting into his very essence.  
The Force crescendoed at last around him, before whining to a resolute, taking her Force signature with it. Had the Force taken pity on him and graced him by letting him see his wife again? Probably not. That dream was meant to serve as a warning, or maybe a premonition. The last time Luke had a dream with his wife, that girl had shown up on the island a year ago. Her three buns and hazel eyes reminded him of his third biggest failure. He should have told her the truth then instead of running away like a frightened womp rat. He had been expecting his nephew and she had come in his place looking for Luke Skywalker. Jedi Master. A _legend_. And instead, she found an old man wrapped in ruins. She was the bearer of bad news, and Luke, overcome with grief for the death of his friend and the fall of his nephew, had sent her away.  
He grimaced at the memory. Luke had missed reading between the lines of what she had asked of him. The girl hadn’t come to bring him back to the Resistance, or she had but that was only true to a certain extent. What she was truly asking, pleading for then, was guidance. She needed a teacher. And if that girl was coming back, Luke was determined to make this right. He wouldn’t send her away this time. She deserved to know the truth, and maybe then, there might still be hope for the galaxy. For the Resistance. And maybe even… Ben.  
Yes, Luke would make this right. He had to—and he would. Even if it was the last thing he would ever do.  
His hand, the one made from flesh and bone this time, touched his bottom lip, brushing against the phantom impress of where his late wife’s lips had been. Her name parted from his lips as he faintly whispered it with a heavy heart.  
“ _Mara._ ”

* * *

**CHAPTER 1  
**  


“They’ve found us!” a static voice came through the comm channel.  
Poe Dameron’s hand twitched. He knew they were not fine and he had to choose his words wisely. His eyes shifted to his right and he felt relief surge through him as he glanced at his squadron that flew beside him: Snap Wexley, Jessika Pava, Clyde West and Dale Terrik. Meanwhile blue leader, Tallie Lintra, flew in her A-wing to the left of the _Millennium Falcon_ with her squadron trailing behind.  
“Please hurry!” the voice pleaded.  
The Corellian YT-1300 light freighter was a reassuring sight. Its hyperdrive engine was among the fastest in the galaxy, it had outrun and evaded plenty of Imperial Star Destroyers and had assisted the late General Han Solo when he snuck up and fired on Darth Vader’s TIE Advanced to give Luke Skywalker the chance to fire a proton torpedo to destroy the Death Star. Poe trusted that under its new owner, the _Millenium Falcon_ would now aid the Resistance in successfully completing this rescue mission. “I hear you, Jones,” Poe reassured the man, “tell the scuttle team to use those guys as target practice. Just hang on, we’re almost there!” Poe held his breath as the static over the comm channel cleared up.  
“Yes, Commander!”  
Poe exhaled and he cracked his neck. Flying a starfighter was physically exhausting on the body. The stress, g-forces, and changing gravity had started taking a toll on him but Poe loved the constant stimulation of multitasking and improvisation. It was an ever-shifting puzzle; An endurance test of sorts that carried fatal consequences if executed incorrectly. It was the adrenaline that made him feel alive and Poe wouldn’t admit it to anyone but the only time the galaxy made sense was when he found himself behind the control yoke. It gave him something to do.  
The _Millennium Falcon_ zoomed by in the void of space, slightly going ahead of him and he couldn’t help but grin when he noticed Rey and Finn glance at the questionable green flares of his X-wing, _Black One,_ a T-170 that stood out among the Resistance squadrons with its black fuselage.  
“How are my favorite torture buddies doing?” he teased, switching to a different comm channel as he flew closer to the _Falcon’s_ cockpit.  
“I’m ready!” Rey’s excitement was leaping through the comm channel.  
“I’m not sure I am,” Finn groaned.  
Poe sighed, he knew the possibility of running into a stormtrooper squadron, TIE Fighters, or Star Destroyer fleets didn’t exact enthusiasm from his friend. “Ease up, Finn, we’ve been through worse than this!” Poe reassured him.  
“You don’t know Hux like I do, Poe. The HoloNet News says he just got promoted to Allegiant General. This was a big day for him and we ruined it. He will be looking for blood.”  
“I agree,” Rey chimed in with a patronizing tone, “and we should keep an eye out for Kylo Ren. We might have to face him.”  
“No, _no_. Rey, you’ll get us killed.” Poe gritted his teeth, his frustration rising. He found her arrogance and impulsive nature irritating. Before he could fire off an insult, he heard his astromech droid, BB-8, blurted out enthusiastic beeps. Poe scowled and reprimanded his droid. “Don’t encourage her!”  
He could hear the mirth in Rey’s voice as she coily replied, “We can still rescue Rogue Three if we face him. He’ll follow us.”  
“Rey,” Poe said sternly, “we are at a disadvantage here. Just focus on getting our guys out of trouble, the _Falcon_ is the only one that can carry them. Besides, nobody has seen Kylo Ren for eight months, it’s like he vanished. What makes you think he’ll show up now?”  
There was a brief pause. “Just a feeling.”

  
  
  
\-----

Finn glanced to his left and Chewbacca growled sharply, tilting his head in the direction of Rey who was slouched on the pilot’s seat, eyeing the console. Finn exhaled in exasperation, giving Chewbacca a knowing look. He could hear the irritation in Poe’s voice and taking in Rey’s smug smile, he felt an argument brewing. They had the potential to be a good team, a great team even, if Rey and Poe ever learned to get off each other’s throats. _This mission hasn’t even started yet and they’re already fighting. I guess that’s what happens when you have two hot-heads for best friends.  
_ “ _Rey,_ promise me you’ll stick to the mission!”  
Finn heard the strain in the pilot’s voice. Poe rarely ever raises his tone at anyone, and if he did, that meant the situation was serious. Hoping to defuse the situation, he interjected. Even if it meant getting on Rey’s bad side temporarily, Finn was willing to accept that.  
“Poe and Chewie are right, Rey. I know we have been through worse but this mission could get dangerous. Eadu is part of the Outer Rim. The Outer Rim is lawless. And now, the First Order is taking over.”  
“Ha!” Poe cried out in satisfaction over the comm link. “Thanks buddy! See, Rey? We need to stick together.”  
“We’re supposed to go rescue Rogue Three _and_ stick together? How does that work?”  
Finn could feel Rey’s eyes on him and he chose to look away, flicking switches to prepare the _Falcon_ to jump to lightspeed.  
“That’s for me to figure out. Follow orders for once, Rey.”  
“Like you did in D'Qar?” Rey fired back.  
 _Alright, that’s it._ “Come on guys, quit fighting! We’re almost to Eadu, we need to focus!” Finn finally scolds. There were good people whose lives were on the line. People who were their friends.  
The mysterious transmission the Resistance had gotten from Eadu had been questionable at best. Boolio, a kyber crystal mine overseer at the restored Energy Conservation Laboratory, had somehow gotten a message from a First Order spy. He did not have access to a secure frequency and it was hard to get a signal far out due to communication blackouts from the planet’s severe stormy climate. So his only choice was to send Leia the information via a ghostwave, a form of encryption developed by the New Republic that encrypted a transmission by hand and dispatched it over an untraceable beam of energy, promising information that could shift the tides in the war. Rogue Three had set out to retrieve the files but they had been ambushed.  
The possibility of death and uncertainty loomed over Finn, and he did not wish to feel like a parent in this moment. He grinned in satisfaction when he heard the grumbling apologies of his friends. Chewie roared, thanking Finn for the momentary silence.  
The _Falcon_ and the two squadrons jumped into lightspeed, coordinates set for Eadu.

  
\-----

Kylo Ren walked up to the window of his old quarters on his Resurgent-class Star Destroyer, the _Finalizer._ His dark eyes contrast with his pale face. His uniform was slightly different, he had traded the sash that surrounded his legs and the hooded scarf for a hooded cloak that flowed down behind him instead. He sensed Vicrul and Trudgen close at his shoulders and their reluctance to be onboard a First Order’s capital ship. Kylo would never admit it, but he echoed their sentiments, pausing to consider a moment more. Living the life of Ren once again, a philosophy established by the original Ren, had been liberating. Ren was a rather flexible code; You took what the dark side sent your way and went with it. It let Kylo live the life he wanted, taking what the galaxy gave him to no avail. There was no concern for right and wrong, no policies and regulations to comply to nor a sadistic master to respond to. It was his youth after all, a time that had been calmer in comparison to the life he led now.  
He had been surprised at how remarkably easy it had been to track the Knights down months ago, finding them in their old hunting grounds. A cantina located on Varnak, a terrestrial astronomical object located in the Mid Rims. A rather uncomfortable planet, whose surface was covered by a brown boiling liquid that created a barely breathable humid atmosphere. That, mixed with the strong smell of Tsiraki that had managed to get past Kylo’s mask when he set foot on the cantina, had almost made him gag. Chachi, the Durosian bartender, had been less than thrilled to see him. On the other hand, Vicrul and the other Knights had greeted him with excitement. Their boredom and hunger for something to burn trickled into the Force. Kylo had sat down in his usual place at their table and requested their assistance to track and locate Luke Skywalker, an unspoken heavy expectation casted on him by Snoke after failing on Starkiller Base. But first, there was a pending matter that needed more attention on Jakku. Kylo promised they would find something to burn there. Vicrul, after shooting back a shot of Tsiraki, accepted Kylo's request without hesitation, even stepping down from his role as the substitute leader. The Knights agreed unanimously that Kylo Ren’s trial from years ago still stood—he remained their rightful leader.  
Their search was far from over but Kylo had only insisted they returned because he had heard through the HoloNet that imbecile Hux had been promoted even after the Supreme Leader had ensured Kylo Ren he was going to dispose of Hux after his incompetence on Starkiller Base. Yet somehow, Hux now sat in a higher position of power surrounded by all the other vastly smarter, wiser, and high-ranking officers of the First Order. Kylo Ren had informed the Knights they were only paying a friendly visit, a congratulations to the idiot. They would leave before the Supreme Leader got word they were on board the _Finalizer_. Kylo Ren believed a reminder was in order for Hux, who was reduced to nothing when Kylo was around. He enjoyed seeing that little worm squirm in insecurity. Perhaps it was petty of him, Kylo thought, but keeping Hux at odds had been his only form of entertainment during his time with the First Order.  
But now, Kylo Ren felt at odds, feeling the weight of the possible ramifications of his actions if by chance Snoke discovered them aboard the ship. He wasn’t quite ready to let go of this new found freedom yet and Kylo was seriously contemplating heading back to the _Night Buzzard_ with the Knights. Kuruk was still on board and not many First Order personnel had spotted him. They could easily exit, but before he could change his mind, he felt a small jolt. The tiniest ripple in the Force, a familiar presence approaching.  
_Scavenger?_ he wondered. He searched her Force signature and he was amused to find it blaring with irritation and rage.  
He smiled.  
Perhaps he would be staying after all.  
Kylo Ren walked over to the pillar that held his mask. The Knights of Ren gathered behind. He opened the container and picked up his mask, admiring its jagged beauty. The mask was now held together by red fractures, a metal called Crimson Molten Ore. A Sith alchemist trained in classic metallurgy named Albrekh, a Symeong, had repaired it. Solving the puzzle of broken shards that had been bent and broken beyond recognition with speed and precision. Kylo had been forced to wait for his reforged helmet and during the grueling patient process, he admitted to himself it had been a bit premature to smash it in an angry fit of rage when Snoke had chastised him for failing to find Skywalker. He had groaned when Vicrul insisted he reforge his old mask as a symbol of his leadership instead of constructing a new one. Looking at the visor now, Kylo realized Vicrul had been right. His new mask was broken and reformed like his former identity of Ben Solo. Like his grandfather. Even, like the Knights.   
_“_ ** _Alas, you’re no Vader. You’re just a child… in a_ ** **mask** ” the vindictive Supreme Leader’s voice echoed in his head.  
Kylo pushed the thought aside, and slowly placed the helmet over his head, breathing in the smell of molten metal, pulling the hood of his cloak over his headgear.  
Perfect.  
Now, it was time to find the scavenger.  
Kylo and his Knights walked in unison down the corridor of his personal flagship. They were an eerie sight of sweeping black robes and masks. Two stormtroopers stared in awe.  
“The Knights of Ren!”  
The other trooper, amazed, responded with “Badass!”  
They watched as the Knights and their leader headed for the hanger.

\-----  
  


As they jumped out of hyperspace, Rey could see the storm clouds surging on Eadu, creating swirls of white over the otherwise glum, rocky, blue planet. Rey nervously stared at the scratched and faded screen, wondering if the _Falcon_ could possibly handle this. She hated piloting in angry weather. She could feel her worries rising, making her want to fidget but she had to stay strong. Finn was nervous enough as it was. So she closed her eyes momentarily and reached out to the Force, just as Leia had taught her, and whispered “Be with me.” Rey felt a jolt in the Force and upon feeling its dark, violent energy, she recoiled, shoving the intruder away with an unneeded push from her mind. _Go away_! she snapped.  
She breathed out a sigh of relief when it complied and Rey opened her eyes. Meditating definitely was not working. She chose to let the hum of the old Corellian freighter soothe her nerves instead. Slightly better, Rey noted, but not enough. So, Rey decided to ask Finn a question.  
“So what did you want to tell me earlier?” she said nonchalantly, her fingers flickering switches on the control panel. She avoided making eye contact, feeling her friend’s hesitation.  
“Huh?”  
“You said ‘I never told you-’ and you still haven’t told me.”  
Finn’s face grew weary. She wondered what her friend could possibly be thinking, what could be so troubling he was keeping it a secret from her. They told each other everything. He was her only family after all. Her best friend. She loved him dearly, and she greatly disliked it when she felt others were hiding things from her. It brought up old insecurities she kept hidden and tucked away from her time as an orphan on Jakku. Secrets made her feel alone. Yet, Rey knew she should be the last one to talk, she had her share of secrets as well.  
“... I’ll tell you later,” Finn softly replied, standing up to head towards the cockpit.  
“You mean when Poe isn’t around?” Poe’s judging voice came through the mic.  
Finn rolled his eyes and sighed. “No offense but—yeah!”  
“So we’re keeping secrets now, is that what we’re doing?” Poe continued.  
Rey glances at Finn, who had taken in a sharp breath. She knew he could also hear how offended Poe sounded. Finn defeatedly sunk back down into the chair and crossed his arms in defiance. Rey’s eyes widened, as if she had an epiphany and bit her lip to stifle a laugh, keeping her eyes forward.  
“I’ll tell you when you tell us where you learned all that shifty stuff you do,” Finn retorted.  
There was a long silence from Poe’s end that had Rey genuinely surprised. The Resistance pilot had an inability to stay in one place for long and he rarely was ever lost for words. Rey raised an eyebrow at Finn, who responded with a shrug before letting his hand slide down his face and sighing.  
“Are you referring to when we had to leave Savareen and I had to hotwire one of the transport skimmers while the jet troopers chased us?” Poe finally said, his irritated tone was coming back.  
Chewie let out an angry howl that made Finn and Rey jump.  
“Alright, Chewie, calm down buddy,” Poe pleaded. “You’re right, we need to focus. The planet’s up ahead. Let’s go get Rogue Three out of this mess.”  
Rey began preparing the landing procedure for the _Falcon_ , and she felt a tickle in her mind. _Danger_ , the Force warned. She sensed the shift, the cold and the bloodlust in the atmosphere. She looked up just in time to watch a modified Oubliette-class transport in its all dark aesthetic descend from the _Finalizer._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The island where Mara Jade and Luke Skywalker are on is mentioned in the EU novel The New Jedi Order: Edge of Victory II: Rebirth (no.8) :  
> Its not technically an island, its a landscaped park atop of a floating mass of polymer cells filled with inert gas that cruised the artificial western sea of Coruscant.
> 
> Characters that Luke mentions:
> 
> [Raynar Thul](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Raynar_Thul)
> 
> Whose been repurposed to be about three years older than Ben, and Meredith is an original character we created, who is Raynar Thul's sister in this version. 
> 
> "... She wouldn't let Ben do anything dangerous"  
> "There are very few things Meredith considers dangerous"  
> is Leia Organa (TM) from the EU novel Young Jedi Knights: The Lost Ones regarding her concern for Jacen Solo and Tenel Ka Djo. We repurposed her comment for this version. 
> 
> If you enjoyed our story and would like to support us comments and kuddos are greatly appreciated :) This is our first time writing a fic and posting on AO3 so sorry for any typos or mistakes.


	2. Poe vs. Kylo above Eadu

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello peeps!  
> Sorry this is a day late, real life events got in the way but here we are!  
> Wanted to put out a quick note out for this chapter:  
> * Please note that this AU takes place A YEAR after The events of the Force Awakens.  
> * This chapter mentions past events from Poe's perspective regarding what took place eight years prior to TFA. An event called the Draven Crisis that we based off the Shadow Academy from the EU. The Shadow Academy in the EU was essentially a group started by the. [Second Imperium ](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Second_Imperium) that trained dark Jedi to counter those of Luke Skywalker's new Jedi Order. We will be explaining in more detail in later chapters what occurred during this crisis, but we wanted to give you all a general idea of what it was.  
> * Also, the New Republic in this AU is similar to that of the EU, with an established Chief of State and  
> [Minister of State ](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Minister_of_State)  
> * While Leia was the chief of state in the EU we decided to leave Leia as the Minister of State prior to the events of TFA. In the EU the galaxy knew after the events of ROTJ that Leia and Luke are Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader's children, and while that didn't damage Leia's chances at Chief of State in the canon book "Bloodlines" the news did end her political career and her shot at becoming First Senator. So we found a happy medium. The galaxy and Ben Solo knew of Leia's bloodline and it did hurt her chances to become Chief of State.  
> Last, the adjusted age for our space babies in this fic:  
> Poe: 30  
> Kylo Ren: 24  
> Rey: kept her canon age - 20  
> Finn: kept his canon age - 24
> 
> We hope you enjoy!  
> -E

Poe had spotted the _Night Buzzard_ as soon as it flew away from the _Finalizer._ He felt a pit in his stomach, he had not expected to see the Knights of Ren, and if the Knights of Ren were here that meant…  
“This just got a whole lot more interesting,” he murmured to himself before speaking into the comm channel, “Hey guys! Change of plans. I’m going to create a distraction. My squad, you’re with me. But _don’t shoot_ . You're on standby unless they send in fighters. Tallie, you and your team will cover the _Falcon_ in the air while they extract the team on the surface.”  
After a brief pause so both parties could digest the sudden change of plans, Poe sent out one last message through the comm channel.  
“May the Force be with you!”  
Poe then dashed off before anyone could protest. His squadron followed him in a hot pursuit.

\----  
  
  
Inside the _Falcon_ , Finn gave Rey another shrug. “And he’s off, like always,” unsure of what to say to defend his friend.  
“So much for ‘sticking together,’” Rey mocked.  
“Come on, there are people that need our help,” Finn sighed in annoyance.  
Rey shot him a worried glance, and he offered her an apologetic smile. Finn hadn’t meant to snap at her, but watching Poe fly towards his possible death had Finn border-lining on edge. Finn knew he needed to focus on the mission at hand, yet the thought of something happening to Poe left him with an empty feeling in his chest. Finn should have told him what he felt—why hadn’t he? Just like he needed to tell Rey-  
Finn felt his hand begin to shake but he forced himself to relax. He would tell Poe and Rey back at the base. Finn promised himself if, and _only_ _if_ , they all survived.  
“Hang tight!” Rey proclaimed as the _Falcon_ flew down to the surface of the storm-covered planet along with Tallie and her squad of A-Wings. 

  
  
\----  
As Poe flew toward the _Finalizer_ BB-8 fired a series of angry chirps.  
“Buddy, we’ve gotten out of worse. Have a little bit of faith, will ya?”  
BB-8 warbled in defiance and Poe let the question the astromech droid had asked linger in his mind.  
He thought back to that fateful day a year ago:  
Hosnian Prime had been obliterated and turned into an asteroid field. What remained of the New Republic was hanging by a thread, and Han Solo, the late General, had met his end at the hands of Kylo Ren. Poe would never forget how Leia Organa had looked so frail, so defeated, so… sad. She had sat Poe down in a private room, offering him a cup of mud leaf tea to ease their nerves once he had finished briefing her on his squadron’s successful mission on destroying Starkiller Base.  
“Yes, thank you,” he uttered, accepting the comfort of the warm liquid with glee.  
“Poe,” the General gently smiled, “anything else?”  
Poe held his tongue, refusing to acknowledge or voice what had happened in that interrogation room earlier with the masked creature who called himself Kylo Ren. It was the makings of nightmares, the way Kylo Ren had violently shifted through Poe’s mind. Opening and closing Poe’s private thoughts, exposing his fears and insecurities, shattering and distorting memories Poe had once held so close to his heart of his mother and father, of his youth.  
It was the memory of a younger Poe with a much younger Ben Solo, who couldn’t have been more than eight at the time, that had caused Kylo Ren to abruptly halt his rummage. Poe had been stuck with babysitting duties as his mother spoke to Leia, but that was nothing new. Poe always got stuck babysitting when the Solos came to visit his family on Yavin IV. Ben had been trailing behind Poe, making sure to step his feet on all the mud prints left behind from Poe’s boots. Once they had reached the repair station Poe’s father had set up in their backyard near the growing Great Tree he instructed Ben to not touch anything and Ben had eagerly complied, occupying his usual spot near the Koyo groves, nose deep in a book on podracing as Poe finished rigging a pair of old pod racing engines for his speeder. Ben glanced up every so often from his book to fire a question, and Poe would always respond, flashing Ben annoyed glances every chance he got. But the kid never seemed to mind, Ben was relentless when it came to his quest for knowledge. And besides, this was tradition. Bantering was _their_ thing.  
Poe wouldn’t have admitted it to his mother nor Leia, but he liked babysitting the kid. Poe had watched Ben grow up after all. From a tiny toddler whose chubby legs struggle to keep up with the elder Solo, to a scared child who struggled to tune out the Force essences that surrounded him, oftentimes getting overwhelmed and sending waves of forceful energy and screams in protest. Desperate for silence in his little mind. That scared child then grew up to be a young boy who had a keen mind, wry wit and sardonic humor. Ben could also just about swindle anyone, a trait he had inherited from his father no doubt, and Poe had never told Ben but he was impressed at how Ben had somehow managed to convince his Uncle Chewie to teach him to shoot a blaster when he was seven.  
Poe cared for the little guy. He hoped that when Ben got older, he could take on some sort of mentoring role as the General—well, Minister of State back then—Organa had done for him. Ben would need someone to show him his place in all of this, and Poe knew a thing or two about growing up as a legacy. Of having others view you as a set of expectations, the constant struggle between wanting to be who you wanted to be and who others were counting on you to be. That inner turmoil could leave a person feeling empty, and left to cope alone could have disastrous consequences.  
That's why he had been disappointed when his mother informed him that Leia and Han had sent Ben away to the Jedi Academy on Kef Bir. Anyone that knew Ben knew he wanted to be a pilot like his father, not a Jedi. To make matters worse, after they had sent Ben away, Han Solo had opened up a flying academy for the youth of Chandrila. Poe tried not to judge, but the guy seriously couldn’t have done that before sending his own son away?  
He had considered visiting Ben at the Academy or sending him a hologram but his mother had reminded Poe that Ben was safe. He was with his aunt and uncle, Jedi Master Luke Skywalker and Jedi Master Mara Jade Skywalker after all. So Poe had let it go, positive that he would eventually see the kid again, and he did.  
Behind that sinister demeanor was great trepidation as Kylo Ren all but froze at the next string of memories:  
Poe standing solemnly next to a lanky adolescent boy who pensively stared into the inferno that burned his aunt’s body to ashes. Snippets of aerial combat, fighting alongside Ben during the height of the Draven Crisis. Poe clasping fifteen-year-old Ben’s shoulder, the youngest Jedi Knight in Luke Skywalker’s New Jedi Order. “The Sword of the Jedi” they called him, the guardian of the Jedi Order who was meant to be in the front rank allowing others to take shelter in the shadow of peace that he would cast. Poe walking down a long corridor of the New Republic Senatorial Complex conversing with Han Solo, both men curtly stopping to do a double take at the way sixteen-year-old Ben tenderly stared into the golden blue speck irises of the girl who accompanied him. The explosion in the city of Rychel on Elphrona , being thrown backwards by a white light coiled and emerged from the wreckage. Poe silently apologized to the boy who laid in a medically induced coma surrounded by a flexypoly bacta suit. A boy who would wake up to the news that yet another person he loved was taken from him by the Draven Crisis.  
The last memory Poe had of Ben Solo:  
Three months later, Poe monitored the HoloNet for the list of casualties in the aftermath of the destruction of the Jedi Academy. Ben was on that list. He was six months away from turning seventeen. It would take Poe months to get over the death of Ben Solo. And it would be a year later that Poe would finally hear the name Kylo Ren. The Jedi Killer. The one who had destroyed the temple.  
It was too much.  
Kylo Ren, in a vicious and animalistic manner, destroyed and shredded through those memories, ripping them apart and tossing them aside, leaving the memories cracked and distorted. It brought a painful drilling sound to Poe’s head and tears to his eyes to remember.  
After that interrogation session, Poe knew what he needed to do. The war caused by the dark side had taken his parents and Ben. Poe promised himself he would make sure this Kylo Ren guy was as good as dead. As justice for his little buddy, and his parents who had dedicated their lives for peace in the galaxy.  
“I was tortured by Darth Vader,” Leia had broken the silence, startling Poe at how easily she had picked up on the war raging inside him. “What happened with Kylo Ren. It might help you feel better. To talk about it.”  
“I-” Poe had stuttered before blurting out, “I’m so sorry, Leia. This guy, this monster, he’s taken so much from you. First Ben, now Han. Hosnian Prime. We may have taken out the First Order’s biggest weapon, but they’ve destroyed most of the New Republic. They’ll be back in stronger numbers, the Outer Rim will rally around them and then they’ll take over the Mid Rims within a matter of weeks. We need to be prepared. We need more people. We… We need-”  
Leia nodded her head before resting her forehead against her hand, giving him yet another weak smile. “I know, Poe.”  
Ah crap. “I’m sorry.”  
“Don’t be sorry. We are all doing our best to deal with… all of this. That scavenger girl, Rey, the one that Finn rescued along with Han, is enroute to get my brother. He’ll know what to do.”  
“The return of Master Skywalker will help shift the tides Leia. It’ll help us win the war.”   
“Perhaps,” she murmured.  
“He’s the only one who can face that creature,” Poe said, taking a long sip of his tea. “I wonder how that reunion will go. Wasn’t Kylo Ren a student at the academy as well?”  
Leia’s face grew dim. She stood up and closed the door before sitting back down. Even though she maintained her composed face, a skill she had acquired after many years of being a politician, Poe saw the slightest shift in her eyes. She was holding back tears.  
“Poe, I’m going to tell you something that can never leave this room. It is classified information and it cannot fall into the wrong hands. Do you understand?”  
“Yes, General Organa,” he promised.  
“Kylo Ren…” Leia began, and Poe canted forward.   
_This had to be good_ , he thought to himself. Perhaps they had discovered his identity or a way to defeat him without the Jedi Master. Anything really, that could help them win. Poe decreased in confidence as Leia’s voice trailed off. What was going on?  
“Kylo Ren,” Leia tried again, “he’s- he’s my son.”  
No.  
“It’s Ben, Poe.”   
_No_.  
Kylo Ren had _tortured him_ , and while Poe couldn’t have recognized Ben underneath all _that,_ Ben surely must have recognized Poe. And that meant that Ben had tortured him _willingly._ Poe fought back the acidic bile that was making its way up his throat. He felt sick. This couldn’t possibly be true… Could it?  
“I’m sorry I kept it from you. But I had no choice. It was information that was on a need to know basis and you did not need to know. But with Han gone-” her voice trailed off again. Lowering in pitch, she was fighting back tears.  
Poe thought in that moment the ground had split in two and swallowed him whole. He couldn’t breath, he couldn’t move, he felt cold, and he felt angry and hate, and disappointed, but most of all he felt an overwhelming sadness. Leia had lied about what had happened to Ben to the galaxy, no wonder Kylo Ren had reacted so violently towards that memory in Poe’s mind.  
“It was Snoke,” Leia explained, “he had been watching Ben since he was a child and I didn’t notice, or maybe I didn’t want to notice, but when I did, I thought I was doing the right thing by sending him to Luke. He and Mara Jade promised to keep him safe and Ben fought to stay in the light all those years. _He_ was good. Ben was-” He looked up when her voice faltered, and he saw Leia's facade temporarily fall. Tears slowly slid down her eyes. Poe felt wetness on his own cheeks and he realized he was crying too.  
“Poe. Promise me,” she said, stifling a sob, “if you encounter him, before you... _kill him_ ,” her words came out in a whisper, “promise me you will give him the chance to come home, please. There is still good in him. I felt it. Despite what he did to Han, Ben is still there, Poe. I sensed Ben’s remorse and shock when he did it. I felt the pull to the light. He’s conflicted. It’s only going to get stronger now since he killed...”  
“Leia,” Poe wiped away his tears, making a feeble attempt to pull himself together, “his own father couldn’t bring him back. Luke couldn’t save him. What makes you think I can?”  
“Because,” Leia had told him, “Ben respected and admired you. You and the Thul’s were his only friends for a long time and you know the weight better than anyone, of what it’s like growing up as a legacy and you… you were there when she died, Poe. You saw what that did to him. He was an utter wreck, so vulnerable and Snoke saw an opportunity after lurking in the shadows all those years and took it. I don’t know what Snoke did to Ben or promised him, but now he’s become this…”  
 _Oh buddy_ , Poe thought. _You never stood a chance.  
_ Leia looked down at the floor in defeat. 

\----

BB-8 warbled again, snapping Poe back to reality. The astromech droid has asked the same question again in a more challenging tone.  
“You know why,” Poe stated, “now stop distracting me. We’re close.”  
BB-8’s silence let Poe know that the droid was discordant with his choices.  
Oh well.  
Poe hovered not too far from the _Finalizer._ He wondered what the officers inside must have been thinking, seeing a lone fighter standoff against their massive ship.  
“State your business,” a woman’s rough voice came through the comm channel.  
“This is Commander Poe Dameron from the Resistance. May I speak to Kylo Ren, please? I have an important message for him,” Poe replied.  
There was a long pause.  
After what seemed like an eternity, the TIE Silencer, Kylo Ren’s personal starfighter, ejected from the _Finalizer_. BB-8 gave out warning beeps, with a side of profanity at Poe’s stupidity.  
“Don’t worry buddy, I got a plan.”  
BB-8 gave out one last beep to prove his point before becoming silent.  
Poe sighed before flipping the switch, and nervously spoke into the microphone, “Before you shoot, let me speak.” Poe took his hand off the switch and waited. Kylo Ren hadn’t fired yet, so that had to be a good sign. _Right?_   
He shook his head and continued.  
“I didn’t know who you were then… But I do now. Your mother told me.”  
BB-8 beeped “I have a bad feeling about this” as Kylo Ren’s TIE began to ease closer. Poe swallowed down the knot that had started building at his throat.  
“Happy beeps buddy!” Poe reassures his friend. He hesitated before speaking into the mic again. Kylo Ren’s silence was making him nervous.  
“I don’t know what happened to you, or what Snoke promised you in exchange for… _that._ ” He glanced at the _Finalizer_.  
“I’m sorry Mere died, Ben. You’re angry and hurt. I get it. I lost my parents, remember? I wanted to blow stuff up too, make others feel the hurt I felt. But I learned from that pain, I chose to let it make me stronger. I didn’t go and join forces with the biggest tyrants and villains of the galaxy! And you do realize they’re the reason why she’s dead, right? And her parents- Forcesakes, _Mere’s_ parents were on Hosnian Prime in that senator meeting when Hux… and Lor San Tekka. _Why,_ Ben? You _knew_ him. And your father… What would _she_ say if she were here, Ben? Huh? What would Meredith say?”  
Silence.  
“You can hide behind that mask all you want, but you can’t escape the truth of who you are,” Poe’s adrenaline was coursing through his system. Right now would be a good time as any to shut up but he couldn’t.  
“I know deep down, you’re still that same kid who ran around telling people he wanted to become a pilot like his father… It’s not too late Ben. Don’t keep going this way. She wouldn’t have wanted this for you. She would have wanted you to live. That’s why she ran back-"  
Kylo Ren didn’t miss a beat, sending a warning shot intended to hit the fusial thrust engine before Poe could finish. It caught Poe by surprise, forcing him to the barrel to the side, the laser blasts barely missing him. Poe rolled _Black One_ slightly for a better angle, but Kylo Ren had anticipated that. Kylo swooped below, then up, blasting away at the X-wing’s undercarriage. Red lights flared on Poe’s console as the vibration of his rumbling starfighter caused him to grind his teeth.  
“No no no, DAMN IT! BB-8, my weapons systems are down, work your magic buddy!” Poe yelled into his microphone.   
BB-8 warbled and lowered himself inside the ship. The astromech droid whistled as a squadron of TIE Fighters started flying out of the _Finalizer.  
_ “Here comes the parade. Team, get ready!” Poe yelled into the comm channel as the TIEs scramble.  
“We’re on it, Poe!” exclaims Jessika.  
Poe’s team begins to thwart off the incoming fighters. Kylo Ren corkscrewed his fighter through increasingly dizzy spins, trying to throw off his pursuers while leaving himself in position to whip around and target _Black One._ He shed altitude, dropping his TIE below the fray inconspicuously through the crossfire of torpedoes and laser cannons. The TIE emerged upwards, then tilted seamlessly down to shoot down at _Black One_ at the perfect angle. Poe evaded the attack quickly, Jessika flanked his side and returned fire.  
“That’s some fancy flat-hatting right there,” Jessika whistled.  
 _You should see him in an X-wing,_ Poe thought grudgingly. The kid was good. Ben had the best pilot in the galaxy for a father, and it was obvious he had acquired his amazing piloting skills from him.   
_Not Ben_ , Poe reminded himself. _Kylo Ren_.  
Out of his peripherals, Poe witnessed the two pilots that had tagged along with Snap and Jessika being shot down. Poe grimaced, and breathed out. He needed to focus. Now wasn’t the time to mourn the loss. That would have to wait until later, in the privacy of his own room back on the base. They were wasting precious minutes that could’ve been used to help Rogue Three who were still stuck in Eadu. This needed to end. NOW. “How’s it going buddy?!” Poe shouted into the microphone.  
BB-8 squealed as he kept trying to put out the sparks on the weapons system with his mechanical pokers but for each one he stopped, another one came out. BB-8 frustrated suddenly put the pokers away and smashed his head against the weapons system. Poe let out booming cheer when he saw the trigger light come to life and smashed his finger down, his X-wing’s S-foils opening up at full power. Poe yanked up the X-wing’s control yoke, gritting his teeth, feet jammed against the petal, grimacing as the g-force slammed him into his seat as he opened fire on Kylo Ren.

\----  
  


Poe matched each of Kylo Ren’s maneuvers perfectly. Kylo realized the best pilot in the Resistance was no longer holding back. Good. It would make it easier to kill him now.  
Kylo banked his fighter, a prototype TIE Silencer with a night-black hull-away, from the black and orange clad X-wing that had barreled out of his line of target at the last minute. It forced the Resistance pilot to break formation and left one of his flank members unprotected. Kylo Ren opened fire, ignoring the words the pilot had said to him, because those words hadn’t been directed at _him._ They were words meant for _Ben Solo_. Orchestrated by his mother no doubt, the pilot had told him so himself.  
The pilot.  
The son his mother always wanted. Charming, a promising leader, not Force-sensitive. Perhaps that was why she could pretend to the galaxy and convince herself Ben Solo was dead, the oxymoron of it all that she stubbornly held onto the hope he would return. He had seen it in the pilot’s mind when he had interrogated him, and in Han Solo’s during their ill-fated encounter on the bridge. The only thing Leia Organa had been correct about, was the death of her son.  
Ben Solo no longer existed.  
Poe Dameron had never cared. He had never been Ben Solo's friend. Snoke had been the one to show him that and Dameron didn’t have any right to say _her_ name.  
Hux’s hologram suddenly appeared at the bottom of Kylo’s windshield. Kylo scoffed in annoyance. Of course Hux would have left his precious party to see what the commotion was all about. If it meant watching Kylo fail, Hux was sure to always be standing by.  
“Ren,” Hux greeted. ”It’s been a while.”  
“General Hux,” Kylo greeted back with the same level of aloofness.  
“It’s Allegiant General now,” Hux corrected, sounding patient as if he were addressing a child, “Anyways, the Resistance is causing our troops on the planet trouble. Shall I send in air support?”  
Kylo took a second to reach out with the Force and he felt her. Her Force signature was shaky, colored with fear and he got a sudden rush of adrenaline. She was in survival mode, which meant she was there, on the planet. “NO! My Knights and I will take care of this,” Kylo immediately exclaimed. He disconnected the communication link and spoke into his headset. “Kuruk!”  
“Yeah, Kylo?” A low vocoder responded.  
“Go find something to burn.”  
Kylo could feel the pilot smiling behind his ominous helmet.  
“On it boss.”  
Kylo then flew forward towards Poe, sending a barrage of laser bolts determined to erase the pilot from existence. Poe evaded each action with ease, and the anger Kylo felt shattered his focus, leaving him breathing hard behind his fighter's control yoke.  
Poe’s voice came through his comm channel, “I didn’t wanna do this but...”  
Kylo felt the rattle and groan of his TIE as the damaging shot by Poe’s X-wing hit his left wing attachment pylon. His TIE started going down toward Eadu, leaving behind a trail of smoke. 

  
\----

On the _Finalizer_ , Hux groaned with annoyance as he watched the fight play out before him. Why couldn’t Ren have stayed away? There had finally been order and peace aboard the _Finalizer_ in his absence. “Get me Ren’s command shuttle!” Hux commanded, “If he messes up, I want to be there to see it with my own eyes!” 

  
\----  
  
Nearby, The Knights of Ren eyed the trail of smoke that sped past them from the cockpit of the _Night Buzzard.  
_ “Oh great, there he goes. Now he needs us to come to his rescue… _again_ ,” Ap’lek murmured.  
Kuruk let out a laugh and continued descending towards the planet. Kylo’s hologram then appeared on the comm link.  
“The rest of you!” Kylo shouted.  
“That girl. The scavenger. _She's here_. She’ll be accompanied by the defected Stormtrooper. FIND THEM!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is no canon location for Luke's Jedi Academy and we didn't want to use Yavin IV from the EU, so we rebranded  
> [Kef Bir ](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Kef_Bir)  
> Just imagine it with a pretty forest similar to Endor and calm waters. Since there's no death star wreckage in this AU we didn't want to completely get rid of Kef Bir since we thought this planet was to pretty to not use. 
> 
> [Sword of the Jedi](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Sword_of_the_Jedi) was a title bestowed to the now non-canon Jaina Solo by Luke Skywalker upon her knighting during the Yuuzhan Vong Invasion of the galaxy. As someone who loved Jaina Solo, I was really disappointed that DLF did not give this title to Ben Solo while he was a student at Luke's Academy. So here we are #justiceforbensolo -E
> 
> The term Flat-hatting is fighter pilot slang for showing off or engaging in dangerous maneuvers 
> 
> What Kylo tells Kuruk: “Go find something to burn” is a (TM) command from [ Original Ren ](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Ren) from the Rise of Kylo Ren comics.
> 
> If you would like to support our work, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated :)  
> Next update on 06/29!


	3. Finn and Rey Rescue Rogue Three/Rey vs. Kylo on Eadu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our space babies finally reunite :) enjoy!  
> -E
> 
> P.S. The fight scene in this chapter between Rey and Kylo was inspired by their fight on Kijimi and Kef Bir in TRoS and the scene where Kylo and the Knights of Ren attack the nerf herders and the remainder of Rogue Three was inspired by this Galaxy of Adventures episode:  
> [kylo Ren vs Resistance Rebels ](https://youtu.be/oX_WcRTj180)

Finn hated Eadu. The dark, uneven terrain of the mountainous canyon planet made it near impossible to run properly. He was conscious of the broad mesas, black stone ridges and narrow spires he jumped and weaved over. He was letting the sounds of blaster bolts and screams guide him back to safety, that and pure instinct. The atmosphere was so condensed and thick it appeared to be night even in the daytime. One wrong move and Finn was well aware that he could end bottom out in a wirithing streambed. A bolt from a F-11D blaster rifle barely grazed his cheek, and Finn looked back to see who the culprit was. He gripped his Glie-44 blaster pistol a little tighter, finger slightly gracing the trigger.  
A lifetime of combat training had prepared him for moments like this, he knew the First Order was an evil organization that needed to be stopped yet it didn’t shake his guilt when he was forced to defend himself against the stormtroopers. Finn often wondered how many more were like him. If there were others who felt trapped and were being forced to kill and fire on sight for a war they hadn’t even asked to be a part of. If like him, they had to bear witness of the violence and meaningless deaths the war had caused.  
He wondered how many more Slips would it take for other stormtroopers to stand up and walk away like he had.  
“On your right!” Rey extended her arm out, aimed, and fired.  
The sound rang in Finn’s ear as he was overwhelmed by the smell of scorched skin that mixed with the acrid stink of Eadu. He mouthed a thank you, and forced himself to keep running. His moral conflict would have to wait.  
A thick cloud of smoke enveloped him, his eyes stinging from the obscuration. He pushed forward despite being temporarily blinded, willing his legs to keep going. He followed the remaining voices of Rogue Three to guide him. There were voices he didn’t recognize too, laced with those he had come to consider friends. Shriv was frantically screaming at Zay to get up, and he distinctly heard Suralinda’s chided commentary, and he couldn’t help but to almost smile. _Almost_. Leave it to Suralinda to find a way to lighten the mood. He couldn’t hear Ziff though and that worried him.  
Finn was about to call out amidst the sounds of blaster bolts when the awful sound of sliced metal groaned as another A-wing crashed into the ground, shattering his ear drums. Simultaneously he felt a burning sensation graze across his upper left arm and he hissed out in pain. He hadn’t seen the bolt coming. It wasn’t a deep injury, only at the surface but stung non the less. He let instinct instruct him on where the attack had come from. He said a silent apology in his head before firing, and an odd sensation nudged at his conscience.   
A warning.  
He fell to the ground and rolled.  
“Finn!” he heard Suralinda cry out in a gasp.  
That’s when he knew another A-wing had crashed into the planet’s dark terrain, crashing into the exact location he had been standing on mere seconds ago. With his heart frantically pounding in his chest, and blood trailing down his face he glanced up, taking in the scene unfolding in the ruinous night.  
The rescue mission had been going well, it had almost gone too perfect. When Rey and Finn had arrived they had run right into the mayhem while Tallie and her squadron had engaged in a dogfight with the six TIE fighters that had been tailing Rogue Three as they had scurried across on the ground. The local clan of nerf herders had come to Rogue Three’s aid in escaping the First Order, peaceful people who had endured and survived the Empire taking over their homeworld and who were in no mood to endure the First Order. So the twelve nerf herders, Rogue Three, Finn and Rey had engaged with the squadron of stormtroopers and managed to take most of them out. The team figured the handful of stormtroopers left could be dealt with and they decided to take their chances and run back to the _Falcon._ Besides, they had enough time before reinforcement arrived.  
Or so they thought.  
Tallie and her squadron had just finished taking out the last TIE when they all but heard the shrill roaring sound of an Oubliette-class transport, so dark and solemn that it almost perfectly blended into the atmosphere, skirting into the battle with a thunderous sound as it fired it’s laser canon. The pilot was ruthless but skilled, obliviating Tallie’s squadron one by one and avoiding their attacks with ease.  
“We have to get out of here now!” Poe’s voice had come through Finn’s comm link, “Kylo’s ship just went down to Eadu and the Knights of Ren are right behind him!”  
So here they were, out of time and perhaps out of luck. Only Tallie and her sister, Kassie, were left providing air support against the menace.  
There was that press to his conscious again, but this time it wasn’t a warning. More like a cry for help from a distinct light he had become accustomed to sensing over the past year. “Rey!” he yelled out as he sprang up. It was so dark he couldn’t barely see and the rain kept adding extra weight as he ran. He didn’t know how he found them, but he practically ran into Shriv. He muttered an apology and got close to Surlinda who along with Zay was gathered around Rey. She was in some sort of trance, her hazel eyes wide, and he couldn’t decipher where her tears and the rain began and ended.  
“Finn,” Rey whispered, “I’ve seen something like this before.”  
Her visions. That was something she had confided in him very early in their friendship. “Hey,” he muttered softly as he put his hand on her shoulders, dipping his head slightly just so her eyes would stare into his. “It’s okay. I got you. We’re going to be okay.”  
She nodded and he released his grip. They both winced at the distant sound of shouting and blasters. The locals had stayed behind to hold off the next wave of stormtrooper reinforcements that were surely on their way and they still had five members from Rogue Three unaccounted for. They had lost so many on this mission and Finn was secretly glad in that moment for the rain and the impossible to see through mist. He didn’t want to see how many bodies laid scattered on the ground. He turned to face the group and out of the corner of his eyes, he saw just the slightest twitch of her mouth, the way she took a hesitant step then another as a resolute expression swept across her face. It happened so fast, he almost missed it. “They need help. I’ll catch up with you!” she yelled before running off in the direction of the battle.  
“Rey! No! ”  
But she was gone.  
“Rey!” He called out again. _No, no, no._ He needed to get to Rey. He needed to protect-  
“Captain Finn, where do we go next? We don’t know where the _Falcon_ is,” Zay asked.  
Silence.  
“Finn?” she repeated, sounding so small and young. She was only sixteen.  
“Sorry, Zay. Everyone, this way!”  
He would have to trust that Rey knew what she was doing. 

\----

Rey balanced herself on a black stone ridge, quarterstaff at the ready against her saturated figure. She sauntered against the chaotic pellets of water, the harsh winds of Eadu carrying them in wild diagonal arrays. She should be afraid, running into impending danger and all. But her common sense had temporarily escaped her, she felt desperate and angry. Suffocated. Only feelings that familiar presence she’d felt for the better half of the past year could bring.He was here, she was certain of it. She slid down a steep mesa and prone at the edge, making a subtle attempt to peer over into the crater below.  
She heard him before she saw him, the familiar thing. The unique shriek of his broken kyber crystal as it awakened to life and she knew before she even looked down the mesa, she would see Kylo Ren. And there he stood, black clad as always, staring into the crater in a foreboding silence through his mask. He looked different somehow. Perhaps it was the intricate red lines that held his mask’s black pieces together, obstructed by his hood, giving him an angrier, ominous appearance. Or perhaps, she was no longer that scared girl from the forest who had been frozen in place by the creature who hid behind his mask.

_“You still want to kill me,” he had proclaimed with amusement, head tilted slightly to the right. It was as if he found her murderous thoughts endearing. He’s a sick, twisted, evil man, she concluded.  
_ _“That’s what happens when you're being hunted by a creature in a mask.” She shook her wrists in defiance against the cool metal restraints as she glared at him._

She pushed the uncomfortable memory to the side, choosing to redirect her attention to the five tall figures that were in combat space with Kylo Ren. All clad in black armor, each more sinister looking than the next. They were the Knights of Ren, she was certain of it. They could be no one else. She should have fled in that moment, She was useless to help her fellow Resistance fighters and the locals who had come to their aid. She couldn’t possibly take on all five Force-sensitive beings _and_ Kylo Ren. Yet, for some reason unknown to her, she stayed.  
Kylo leaped into the air, his saber overhead before impaling Ziff, flipping over his fallen body. The one carrying a modified Mandalorian executioner ax deflected a blaster bolt and dodged another, his martial prowess was no match for the nerf herders he slashed through with ease, cutting through armor and bone. Distorted laughters could be heard over the sound of blasters and a crackling blade. Rey identified the culprits as the Knight who had a custom arm cannon and the other one who wielded a massive war club that has a blunt heavy end.  
They battled together, finding a rhythm through the fray. The latter with the massive war club brutally sent a concussive blast with each target he hit. His club made contact with an abdomen, sending the person sprawling to the ground. He raised his club into the air, bringing it down in a quick motion, crushing his opponent's skull. The ones he was unable to strike were swiftly gunned down in rapid alterations between rapid-fire laser blasts, and a plasma bolt launcher that launched two fire explosives that sent three nerf herders sailing across the air by the Knight with the custom arm cannon. He had more than one machinery installed in his weapon, interesting.  
Another Knight whose patch helmet seemed to belong to a Death Trooper, wielded a vibrocleaver made of crucible steel with phrik filaments and he aided the Knight with the phrik scythe. The scythe was made of vibro-tech metal she quickly realized, it allowed the blade to rend flesh with the smallest of glancing blows. This one preferred to make his kills personal, fighting his opponents at close range before delivering the final blow.  
The Knights of Ren were diabolical, with only one intent: to kill. Rey’s breath hitched at her throat, she felt as if she were choking on the malicious energy rippling through the Force in waves.  
Her eyes flickered to Kylo amidst the chaos. He emoted such rage and recklessness he shouldn’t be able to control the Force the way he did, but somehow he did. Relying on it as a personal tool to bring destruction and chaos to the enemies that stood in his way. With one upward stroke he sliced Aleson’s blaster before contouring his body in a half twist to the side, changing his motion to a downward slash, impaling Aleson’s abdomen and with one broad stroke he deflected a blaster bolt back to Noela. He maintained his knees half-bent through his attacks, making it easier for him to spring in front of Gunner and Sion in order to strike. He used a combination of quick stabs and strong slashes to push his opponent backwards before slashing a horizontal gash across Gunner's chest and impaling Sion in the jugular. Rey observed there were subtle hints of elegance to the way he parried, Kylo’s footwork matching each fluid jab and undercut before changing into a fast paced kinetic style, quick to strike before bounding away, not giving room for retaliation. There was a brief pause, as he remained unfazed and oh so ever still as the last three members of Rogue Three and last seven nerf herders rushed toward him.  
Rey _knew_ he was smirking behind that mask, taking delight by the strength he drew from the fear of the individuals running towards him. Just as his opponents were closing in on him, he threw his hand out, rendering everyone in a frozen catatonic state, their bodies slowly rising from the ground. It was sadistic, the way his Force signature sang with the need to release his frustration. With the need to destroy. Kylo’s fingers twitched in anticipation. With a mere flick of his wrist, he sent them all toppling on their backs away from him. Silenced forever. He did not spare any of the bodies sprawled on the floor a single glance, simply choosing to scan the shadows for his next kill. His cloak flowed intune with the mist and drizzle swirling around him, lightsaber still ablaze as he strode forward. He was almost beautiful to watch in a way-   
_No._ There was nothing beautiful about Kylo Ren. To gratify that thought would mean accepting that the dark side was drawn to her. Or perhaps _she was drawn to it,_ which was an even sinister realization. 

_“Kill him.” A voice snarled in her mind, a voice she had heard once before in a nightmare. She glanced down at the monster sprawled on the snow. Blood gushing in large quantities from the slash that stretched from his right eyebrow across his cheek reaching above his nose. He should be furious. Vengeful. But all he could do was stare at her in pure wonder, as if he were finally seeing her for the first time._

She needed to leave, she realized, before Kylo or any of the other knights spotted her. She propped herself on her forearms when she sensed Kylo Ren glance in her direction. Adrenaline rushed through her veins as she scurried backwards, flattening herself out even more against the rocky terrain of the mesa. There was the scuffling sound of his boots, no doubt dragging mud with them as he inched near.  
“She’s close. I can sense it.”  
Was that desperation she heard in his voice?  
“Find her!”  
Rey trench crawled to the edge of the mesa to peer out again. Kylo and the four Knights were scattering in different directions. The adrenaline coursing through her veins slowly dwindling as relief took her.  
Wait a minute. She counted the Knights again. _One. Two. Three. Four_. She could have sworn she originally had counted five. Where did the other one go?  
“Look at what we have here,” a growl distorted by a voice coder coily stated behind her.  
The child of the desert awakened, like a wild animal she quickly turned around and pounced. With one strong stroke to the abdomen she caught the Knight off guard and brought him down to his knees. She swung her quarterstaff behind her and ignited her lightsaber. The crystal hummed with life, sapphire glowing, her beacon of light. She found her center as she held the blade up to his neck.  
He was the Knight who used the Mandalorian ax, his grip tightening around his weapon’s hilt. Upon closer inspection, Rey noticed he wore a water shedding oiled cloak, giving the illusion he was invincible to the water droplets crashing down from above, the roaring wind picking up intensity. A weight brusquely pressed on her conscious. _Danger,_ it screamed. _Run.  
_ Rey didn’t see the blow coming, not until metal crushed into the back of her skull. The brutal force caused her to double over before collapsing, sending her saber flying out of her hands. Her heart drummed wildly against her chest and she saw splotches of red and white, she was going to be sick. The vibration from the blow spread from the back of her head down her spine. That club had a Concussive vector bane. The Knight she had taken down chuckled, the one with the club lowered himself down and placed his hand on her shoulder, the raised teeth of his gauntlets puncturing her skin as he applied pressure. Rey grimaced at the added injury, she was bordering on the edge of unconsciousness enough as it was. Her eyelids were growing heavy…  
“You must be the famous girl Kylo always goes on about,” he murmurs. “Where are the others?”  
“Like I’d say anything to the likes of you!”  
He applied more pressure to where his hand rested, and Rey winced. But she would not show fear. She had fought off more menacing looking men on Jakku as a child and survived. She would survive this too. “Big mistake, little girl.” His hand lunges for her throat.  
Rey squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the pain. Suddenly, she sensed a weight in the back of her mind, and the familiar thing along with it. The pain never came. She opened her eyes.  
“That’s enough, Ap’lek!” Kylo hissed, chest heaving. His arm was extended out, hand splayed, calling on the Force to immobilize Ap’lek. The other Knights stood behind him.  
“What the hell, Kylo?” the Knight with the scythe said. “Vicrul!” Kylo‘s voice was laced with mirth. “I said ‘ _find_ her.’ I never said kill her.”  
His unnerving, calm demeanor caused the the Knights to eye him with unease. Kylo Ren released his hold on A’plek and stepped towards Rey, looming over her. His foreboding silence meant he was observing her behind his mask. She hated this. He crouched down ever so slowly to Rey’s eye level, his hands curled into their signature fists. If he was expecting her to break the silence first, he had greatly underestimated her. She circumvented looking at him, choosing to focus instead on the muddy patches on his boots. He smelled of molten iron.  
Her defiant silence hung in the atmosphere. She had nothing to say, nor could she really, considering the amounting pressure burrowing into the back of her skull. It was only sheer will power she hadn’t succumbed to the heaviness. where her strength was lacking, her dignity made up for. If Kylo Ren was going to kill her here, amidst the dark warriors and the raging storm, she would not give him the pleasure of knowing he had gotten what he wanted. He would have to extract the information himself like last time, and she somehow knew he would never do that to her again.  
He growled. His coarse leather fingers grazed at her jawline before cupping her chin, forcefully snapping her face up so she would be forced to stare at the silver inlays and red lines of his black mask. A move for power. She felt dimples of sudden cold trail up her spine. She was torn between hitting him upside the head, preferably with the other Knight’s club for daring to touch her, or looking away from the imposing design of his mask. She didn’t want this to be the last Image she saw before she-   
_There is no death. There is the Force.  
_ Right.  
“Where are the others?” his built in vocoder modulating his voice to sound more deeper and menacing than it truly was. She fought back the urge to roll her eyes. She knew what his voice truly sounded like behind his facade. It was a far cry from menacing. She wasn’t afraid. He had no power over her and he knew it. She concentrated on staring at the silver inlays. His eyes were obscured behind that awful thing. She scrunched her eyebrows together so a small wrinkle formed on her temple, narrowed her eyes and tilted her head slightly up in defiance and she glowered.  
Their trance was broken by a stifled cough.  
“She’s the only one we found.” The meek response was almost comical, it didn’t match the deep growl this Knight's voice coder had been modulated to.  
Kylo Ren tightened his fist, his Force energy a chaotic blend of rage and bitterness. The one called Vicrul curiously stared at where Kylo Ren’s other hand remained. Kylo followed his trail of gaze and pushed Rey’s face away when their eyes met again, as if she were on fire and her skin had scorched him. In an elegant motion, Kylo Ren stood. His cape swept the ground, the red cracks of his mask glowing contrast in the mist. “Poe Dameron,'' he said, sounding bored. As if he wasn’t going to give a command to have her friends murdered but rather they were misbehaving children who kept fleeing from a parent. The audacity of this man. “I can sense him. Bring him to me. This one,” he whipped his crimson saber up to her eyes, illuminating her face. “She’s _mine._ ”  
The shriek and crackle of the broken crystal rang in her ear. Despite this, Rey’s gaze remained fixed on Kylo, never once breaking contact. She observed him slant his head, perhaps in a warning? It was a non-verbal command the others clearly recognized because the Knights retreated. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Vicrul hesitate. He lingered a second too long before departing.  
Now, they were alone. Their first confrontation since Starkiller Base. He retreated a couple of steps and began to circle her, like a stalking wolf, slow and intense, in a silent challenge. He was waiting for her to be the one to make the next move because of course he would. Leave it to Kylo Ren to turn her impending death into a game. She should be afraid, she knew her injuries were serious and she was in no condition to fight. But all she felt was vexation. She visualized Han’s callous hand resting on Kylo Ren’s cheek, the way he had gazed at his son with such love and forgiveness that Kylo Ren did not and would never deserve, Han’s dying body slumping over into the crimson glow of his own son’s lightsaber.  
A year worth of resentment and avoided emotions emerged to the surface. Her rage for the family that had never come back for her, Kylo Ren, the First Order, this war. Her jealousy for this man that had grown up with everything she had ever wanted. A family. Belonging. A home. A child of legacies, a child of war heroes and a princess. Which meant he was a prince if she were to really get technical about it, and he had the audacity to walk away from those who loved him for power. Those who continued to love him, despite what he had done. She fears, because if the son of Han Solo and Leia Organa, nephew of Luke Skywalker, could fall to the dark side, did that mean no one was truly safe from the dark side? And her loneliness, a treacherous voice that was her own that would whisper she should just go home. What if she had missed her family? What if they had come back and she had missed them by a second. She couldn’t understand why the Resistance relied on her so much, she was no Jedi yet, nor a child of legacies, or war heroes. She was afraid to let them all down, to disappoint the people that had taken her in and given her a home. People she had begun to trust. She was afraid to lose it all.  
Especially Finn and Leia.  
She drew strength from those feelings, an orthodox method but effective. It’s all she knows, instinct from surviving starvation and each violent storm X’us Riia had wrecked upon Jakku . She would not show weakness, she would not let the likes of Kylo Ren see fear in her eyes ever again. The Force hummed with compliance. Her vision cleared, and the burning sensation on her shoulder waiver before disappearing, the pressure in the back of her skull softening to an annoyance. Rey rose and called for her lightsaber. She pressed her thumb down on the hilt, and shifted into a wide-space moving stance, and ignited her saber. She could win this. She bore all her concentration into the Force. Nothing could distract her now-  
“New hairdo?”  
Except that. She lowered her weapon for a sheer second and stared at him incredulously before composing herself. Of all the things he could have chosen to antagonize her with, he chooses her hair?  
“Yet, you still count the days since your parents left,” it was almost a question. As if he needed confirmation for his observation. Rey never took her eyes off him as they began moving in sync like two binary stars circling one another. “Such pain in you,” he scoffed, his voice dripping with mock sympathy and scorn. “Such anger.”  
There it was. “I can see through the cracks in your mask,” she said calmly. “You’re haunted. You can’t stop seeing what you did to your father.”  
Kylo didn’t deny it. He began walking towards her. The storm around them picked up in ferocity and strength. Rey figured now was a good time as any and she lunged at Kylo Ren.  
“You're going to pay for what you did!” she screamed as she swung blindly.  
He was ready. Their blades clashed, crimson on sapphire, sizzling and humming with each impact as he dodged and blocked her every attack. Her primal rage was taking over. She wanted to land a blow, she wanted to hurt him. Kylo Ren deserved it.  
“How’s that going?”  
She hated his maddening calm voice, how he spoke to her as if he were the teacher and she were the student. As if she hadn’t defeated him on Starkiller Base. The only reason he lived is because she had chosen to spare him… and the terrain had split apart before she could land another mortal injury but that's besides the point. She continued slashing in wide angle swings, keeping her saber hilt at navel level. He blocked her each time without much effort, their energies in the Force mounting with each clash of their blades. While he was physically stronger, he was a brooding tall man after all, Rey made up for in ferocity and speed. Her motions were quick and controlled as she picked up intensity, swiping her saber in rapid arcs, most of the blade work generating from her wrist. She saw him… hesitate? Perhaps. It happened so quickly she barely had any time to register what had occurred. Their blades clashed together overhead and Rey gritted her teeth as he pushed. She slid backwards and she anchored herself using the Force. She could feel the vibration and heat from his chaotic blade on her forehead, her sapphire blade reflecting on his mask.  
“I see you’ve been taught to fight like a Jedi.” His calm demeanor had a dangerous undercut to it. They broke apart and she observed him for an opening. Launching herself at him again. He sent a wave of Force energy, her temples throbbing with pain as she flew backwards, but she caught herself and managed to land neatly. He stalked towards her and she held her saber parallel to the floor, the hilt chest level to Kylo Ren. She striked in a horizontal motion, aiming for his abdomen. Sending another wave of Force energy he paralyzed her saber mid-stroke, the impact vibrating into her shoulders and her blood screamed in her ears. He released his hold and their blades met again in a downward angle, he leaned in, applying more pressure to her blade. Rey stared into those silver inlays. “ _So have I_ ,” he eerily said. His Force energy reeked of rage and certainty. He pushed her back, the heat from his saber nicking her finger. She hissed in pain, and leapt towards him.  
He attacked. 

\----  
  
Kylo Ren felt like an idiot. _New hairdo?_ He had acted like a blubbering fool, sounding almost identical to Han Solo. Her new hairstyle was not even anything worth admiring. A simple ponytail centered at her crown. But he knew what those three buns had meant to her, he had seen it—well, taken it from her mind—back in Starkiller Base. She had kept her childhood hair all those years in hopes her family would recognize her when they came back. Perhaps she had let go of that hope, considering she wasn’t back on Jakku and had opted to fight with the Resistance instead. But Kylo Ren knew better, he didn’t have to look into her mind again to know she was still counting the days since her parents had left.  
She had been on the receiving end of Ushar’s kinetite charged club. The concussive blast should have taken her out but she had opened herself up to the Force, struggling to hold onto consciousness. He had found her on the ground, her forearms trembling as she used what little strength she had to prop herself up. He had almost felt compassion for her— _almost_. But he couldn’t lie either, it was poetic how he had found her the same way she had left him.  
When they were finally alone, the Force had hummed to life, the girl dangerously teetering on the dark side to cope with her injuries as she drew on her rage. The surge of energy gave her enough strength to rise, and she was prepared to face Kylo Ren in the howling storm.  
He ducked and dodged, avoiding her attacks. He admired the precision and control of her motions, how comfortable she had become with his grandfather’s saber. Those beseeching hazel eyes tracked his every movement as she estimated each sudden charge and fluid jabs. He cursed himself for wasting precious seconds admiring her. She was a force to be reckon with, and in hindsight he wasn’t surprised. He had seen her potential on Starkiller Base. She had been untrained, yes, but stronger than she knew. Someone had been training her this past year.  
As Kylo whirled away from her, cape flying, he pondered who her teacher could be. Had Skywalker returned and joined the Resistance? No, didn’t seem likely. Leia Organa and her little band of rebels would have publicized that information to the galaxy by now and taking in her awkward footwork and poor form, Kylo deduced with certainty her teacher was not Skywalker. The rhythm and intricate movements _Makashi_ required did not match her personality. She was someone who was used to fighting viciously with a quarterstaff for survival, _Juyo_ would suit her better.  
 _Makashi_ was an elegant form of blade-to-blade combat. Perfect for a princess who had taken sparring lesson for most of her childhood. That could only mean-  
 _Leia._ His mother.  
Rage turned his vision red. He let Rey take the lead while he maintained total control of the fight, alternating between smooth transitions from parrying her attack to a counterstrike and overhand power blows that crashed down on her with exceptional force. He matched her ferocity, the orchestra of cymbals clashing and pulsating hums resonated with each impact as their blades met over and over. And she was growing tired. Her reaction to counter his attacks had begun to slow down, her footwork downgraded from awkward to terrible. With what little strength she had, she launched herself at him. He countered, knocking her off her feet.  
He loomed over her, lightsaber raised high.   
_Through power I gain victory. Through victory my chains are broken._ He prepared to bring his saber down-  
 _The Force shall set me free.  
_ He froze.  
  
 _“Hey, Ben!”  
_ _“What do you want, Goggles?”  
_ _"What goes ha-ha-ha… THUMP?!”  
_ _“I don’t know.”  
_ _“A droid laughing its head off!”  
_ _“Ah. A-hah. Very funny, kid.”_

Kylo Ren staggered backwards. His mind in turmoil. He knew the scavenger was really _her._ And in his blind rage, he had almost _killed_ her. His stomach roiled at that gut wrenching realization. “Consider this a momentary truth, Scavenger.”  
She parted her lips in surprise. He tore his gaze from her and walked away, fighting the urge to glance over his shoulder when he felt her slip into a state of unconscious.  
 _There is no weakness, there is the Force.  
_ From afar, General Hux watched from his electrobinoculars, his plan was falling perfectly into place. His lips curled into a smirk before he headed back to the shuttle.

  
\----

Finn had a strange feeling as he boarded the _Falcon_ . Someone was in danger… Where the hell was Rey? “Poe! We have to go back for Rey!” he spoke into the comm link as he made his way to the cockpit.  
“What’s wrong?” Poe’s voice crackled through the static frequency. _Black One_ and two other X-wings Finn recognized as Snap’s and Jessika’s broke through the atmosphere.  
“Rey decided to-“  
“Be a hero? Why am I not surprised?”  
“Can it, Poe! She’s hurt, I can feel it.”  
“Oh?” He sounded curious. “How would you know?”  
Finn’s bauble strapped to his wrist lit up. A distress signal from Rey. _What luck_ , he thought bitterly. He hated it when he was right. “My binary beacon,” he responded. “I’m going back!” Finn sat on the co-pilot seat, silently greeting Chewbacca. The Wookie growled reassuring words in Shyriiwook and patted Finn’s shoulder. “It is my fault, Chewie. I never should have left her alone.”  
The Wookie growled again as they prepared for take off. A question this time.  
“Some lessons here and there,” Finn responded. “Poe’s been teaching me.”  
Chewie paused before touching the control yoke. Another question, that loosely translated as “I know Poe‘s a good pilot, but how is he as a teacher?”  
“Well,” Finn said, “I guess we’re about to find out.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Eadu ](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Eadu)
> 
> [Finn's blaster](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Glie-44_blaster_pistol)
> 
> Finn's buddy [Slip](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/FN-2003) that was killed in the opening scene of TFA
> 
> [The Night Buzzard ](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Night_Buzzard)
> 
> [Knights of Ren](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Knights_of_Ren) named:  
> [ Vicrul](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Vicrul), [Ap'lek](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Ap%27lek), and  
> [Ushar](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Ushar) who has the [War Club](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/War_club)
> 
> [stasis field](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Force_Stun)
> 
> Lightsaber combat forms mentioned:  
> [Makashi](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Form_II/Legends)  
> and for Kylo Ren, after watching TFA on a loop when it first came out I recognized  
> [ Djem So](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Form_V/Legends)  
> in his form.
> 
> The joke little Goggles cracks in the flashback Kylo has is a Jacen Solo (TM) original.
> 
> [Code of the Sith ](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Code_of_the_Sith/Legends)
> 
> Next update on 07/06!


	4. Kylo Ren and General Hux on the Finalizer

Snoke had always encouraged Kylo Ren’s impulsive behavior. Provoking him at times with his contemptuous nature for his own amusement. Passion, Snoke had rationalized, was often confused with impulsivity, and passion gave one strength. It fed and cultivated the dark side. Made one more powerful. So it was better to act than to analyze. To cede knowledge for instinct. Better to do than to _feel_.  
Sentiments had been Darth Vader’s downfall after all. Never mind that Darth Vader had choked his very pregnant wife, tortured his own daughter and allowed his future son-in-law to be frozen in carbonate. When the moment came, Anakin Skywalker had risen from the depth of Darth Vader’s shadow, or perhaps even resurrected, and hurled his tormentor down a shaft, bringing an end to the Empire’s reign. Anakin Skywalker had sacrificed himself to save his son, his last act of heroism. “ _He was of good heart,”_ a togruta female with white markings on her orange skin had once told his childhood identity.   
_“Of good heart, like you.”  
_ And if Kylo Ren was being honest, he had never quite seen it the way Snoke reiterated. Impulsivity bordered on passion, yes, but peace could be achieved in chaos, serenity amid emotions. That childhood identity of his, had been impulsive too, hadn’t he? _“Insane. Just like his grandfather,”_ someone laughed at their own witticism; and _he_ had held onto the light for years until-   
Snoke was wrong, Kylo concluded as he worked his way through the narrow spires. Impulsivity, if nurtured correctly, could be used for the light. It had provided him, after all, with a moment of clarity that had stopped him from committing a fatal mistake. To believe such a character trait solely belonged to the dark was absurd. But that was no surprise, Snoke was often wrong about a lot of things. 

_“Switch off, kid. With a family like mine, I could be a smuggler who saves the galaxy, a diplomat who saves the galaxy, or a Jedi master who saves the galaxy. I don’t have it all figured out yet, Goggles. Ask me again in twenty years.”  
_ _“Oh, I will.”_

 _  
_It’s her. Kriff, he had almost killed _her_. The rage came without warning. An inferno laced with veins of shadows. It demanded release.   
“Hey Kylo, we weren’t able to find the pilot,” Vicrul said as Kylo neared the _Night Buzzard_ , “but we found the guy who gave them the intel. Says his name is Boolio.”   
The Knight brought forth a yellow-green skinned Ovissian male wearing a dark mining thermal suit. He had two large horns extending from either side of his head and two smaller ones protruding under his mandible. He held a powerful gaze. Vicrul roughly shoved the Ovissian onto his knees, eliciting a grunt. Kylo Ren’s lips curled at the corner behind his mask. Here was his release. He knew how to handle spies. Without hesitating, he lit his saber and in one fluidmotion, slashed the Ovissian's head off. The traitor’s head fell, one of the horns smacking against the ramp of the _Buzzard_ with a thud. “He should find it rather difficult to run his mouth to the Resistance now,” his voice cut through the air.  
The _Night Buzzard_ glided towards the _Finalizer,_ leaving thick, dissipating clouds of dark smoke trailing behind from the engine.   
Kylo and the Knights of Ren charged down the corridor, each footprint painting the floor with the mud the Knights dragged through the ship. The officers they passed either peered down in shock or flinched away when the Knights strolled by. Kylo Ren didn’t pay them any attention. That’s not what he’s here for, after all.  
Admiral Griss, a dark-skinned man who always kept his uniform in perfect condition, raised an eyebrow but otherwise concealed his disgust. He was more curious about the obscured object four stormtroopers carried in a phalanx. Whatever this unidentified object was, it was oozing a suspicious substance onto the mud tracks of the Knights. As they approached the door, Admiral Griss's anxiety skyrocketed. “Kylo Ren, sir, you cannot be here,” he nervously said, “this is a private meeting-” and with a wave of a hand, Kylo shoved him out of the way with the Force, the squeaks of his boots sliding across the polished floor.   
Kylo entered the conference room and slammed Boolio’s head onto the table, interrupting Hux’s meeting with the Supreme Council—personally assembled by Supreme Leader Snoke himself. They all flinched, Kylo noted in satisfaction, and they looked at him in shock. Not only because of the severed head at the end of the table but also because they hadn’t seen him in months. The Knights stood next to the door, half on each side as Kylo passed to the left side of the table.  
“You have a spy in your ranks who just provided information to the Resistance,” he stated in a stern but monotone voice. He waited for all the officers to take another good, long look at Boolio’s head oozing out light green liquid onto the surface before he added, “Whoever this traitor is, is probably under subpar leadership.” He stopped in front of the window and rested his fists on his hips, looking at the storms traveling all around Eadu. “The same leadership that led to FN-2187’s betrayal last year.”   
Hux shot a glare at Kylo, offended. He shifted his gaze and instantly regretted glancing down at the Knights after spotting the dirt on their boots. Hux thought to himself how much he hated the Knights of Ren. They were no better than their leader and Hux despised their unkempt appearances and how they tread dirt and mud around the polished halls of First Order capital ships.  
“I sense unease about my appearance, General Hux,” Kylo uttered, slowly turning his head to look at him over his shoulder.   
All eyes were on Hux—now he was irritated. He didn’t have time to indulge Kylo Ren in this ridiculous banter. “Don’t be ridiculous, Ren, like I could be intimidated by you! Especially after seeing you and your precious little scav-”   
Kylo didn’t let him finish. In one swift motion, he completely turned around and thrusted out his hand. Hux grabbed his neck as he rose off the chair, slamming onto the ceiling. He would show the arrogant general that mentioning _her_ was a fatal mistake. Hux felt the air being constricted at his throat. Everyone in the room looked away uncomfortably, avoiding being witnesses to such a display of lack of self control. It was a new low for Kylo Ren, and it shocked those in the room. Even Kylo’s ruthless Knights of Ren who gave one another a knowing nod. “My Knights and I will be on our way out,” he snapped. “When I come back, _Allegiant_ General, you have better come up with some ideas to find the spy and the location of the Resistance!”  
“Kylo Ren, what a _pleasant_ surprise.” Snoke’s face appeared on the giant hologram projecting from the table. Kylo Ren immediately released Hux. He didn’t flinch when he heard the resonating thud of his colleague falling onto the table. It was followed by a clunk as Hux spiraled onto the floor. Hux expectorated, feeling a stream of blood running down his chin.  
“S-Supreme Leader,” Kylo Ren responded, sounding slightly apprehended.   
“Welcome back, my young apprentice,” Snoke sneered. “My disappointment in your performance and Hux’s leadership cannot be... _overstated,_ ” Snoke continued, with much contempt in his voice.  
“Supreme Leader!” Hux blurted out, rising and adjusting his uniform, trying to not sound unnerved as well.   
“Allegiant General Hux,” Snoke greeted, “Come to the _Supremacy_ at once. I have to speak with you and Kylo Ren. _Alone._ NOW!” The hologram vanished.  
Hux smoothed out the wrinkles on his left cuff anxiously. His fingertips tracing his rank’s insignia. “Ah good,” he said cocksure, “I will continue this meeting when I get back.”   
In a coincided stride, Hux and Kylo approached the door. Hux shoved himself in front of Kylo, determined to not appear incompetent to the fore. Hux glances back at Kylo with a knowing smirk that Kylo badly wanted to wipe off his pasty face. “Really?” Kylo muttered under his breath. 

  
\----

Hux pretended he hadn’t heard. Upon entering the turbolift, Hux couldn’t help but smile one last time before the doors closed. Hux knew now was the right time to alert the Supreme Leader of the quiet whispers among the First Order personnel. A shocking rumor really, that had spread like wildfire from the lowly stormtroopers to the high ranking admirals and commanders after the unfortunate events of Starkiller Base. Everyone, and Hux meant _everyone_ , knew the violent and unstable nature of Kylo Ren. The brute showed no mercy, and he cared for no one—except maybe for the scavenger. Rumor had it, he had carried the girl in his arms back to the transporter on Takodana, and the stormtroopers stationed outside the interrogation room hadn’t heard the usual screams of terror of afflicted agony as he interrogated her. The man had even forgotten his mask when he emerged, looking disheveled and _haunted_. As if he had seen a ghost.  
Hux hadn’t believed it at first, he thought they had all gone mad. Including his dear friend, Phasma, who never partook in such trivial slander but thought it was worth the mention. It wasn’t until Kylo Ren’s three month assignment to Jakku had turned into an eight month hiatus with his Knights, Hux had _wondered._ And after taking in what he had seen today, how calm and controlled Kylo Ren had remained as he had dueled the scavenger, there was validity in the whispering campaign. Even though Kylo Ren had gotten eerily close to killing her towards the end, he hadn’t. He had hesitated and the sight of the “mighty” Kylo Ren walking away from his victim had been shocking.  
And that datum was _worth something._ Hux had the unfortunate and unpleasant experience of going into battle with this impetuous man-child and he had never once seen Kylo Ren hesitate to kill someone or spare anyone for that matter. The man lived for his next kill and if Hux was being honest, he didn’t mind all that much. Better an enemy of the Order than another computer terminal. But it was rather interesting. It was almost as if… Ren _cared_ for her. 

\----

  
Kylo Ren watched as the turbolift went up to the _Finalizer’s_ control bridge. He cursed under his breath. If Hux knew he had spared Rey, that meant Snoke wasn't far behind. That imbecile had followed him as if he were a child. Kylo silently groaned. He had been gone far too long and in his absence, Hux had gotten smug. Order needed to be reestablished. He needed to-  
All at once the corridor darkened, the sounds of First Order personnel faded. His senses drank in a familiar presence in the Force. He braced himself for the painful collision as a bright beacon of light flowed through his subconscious, a foreign concept to the empty void that was him.   
This wasn’t the first time. The first time had been a year ago, a standard day after her interrogation. The interrogation in which she had turned the tables on him and pushed back. Entering his mind and exposing his trepidation. The medical droids had been putting him back together, closing the slash in his face with microsutures and placing Bacta patches on his abdomen where the bolt from Chewbacca’s bow caster had struck him. Stretched out on the table, Kylo had wondered if the Wookie had intended for the blow to be fatal, or if he had somehow known Kylo would be able to contain the energy of the blow with the Force. He had called him Uncle Chewie then hadn’t he, before… Before-   
He felt a painful jolt in his left temple, the fading sounds of the medical droids, the blazing white light. He thought of the fairytales Han Solo had told him as a child, of the angels of Iego. Perhaps one had come to free him from his pain, to take away the guilt of what he had just done, maybe he could beg one to bring the elder Solo back and take him instead. Finally freeing him of his misery. A weak and foolish thought, but he had been delirious. But not delirious enough that he didn’t register that the blazing white light was a familiar presence. But it wasn’t his mother. That could only mean-   
_Rey._ He somehow knew she had heard his thoughts, and it was confirmed when she sent a string of questions into his mind.  
 _Why did you do it then? If you regret it so much. Why did you kill your father?  
_ Sounding disgusted and just the slightest bit curious all at once. He felt her recoil when he answered, perhaps a bit too harsh. _Leave. Get out of my head.  
_ He felt her panic when she realized she couldn’t, and she felt his panic as they both found themselves in a predicament where neither could hide a single thought.   
This connection they shared was… eventful to say the least. After the third occurrence, where she bore witness to his extreme moment of weakness while the First Order invaded Chandrila, Kylo had slammed down mental barricades on the memories he did not wish for her to see, shielded feelings he did not want her to explore. It was better that way, for both their sakes. A minor annoyance but he deemed it necessary and not for a lack of trying, it just wasn’t always effective. The Force had declined to acknowledge he and the scavenger were sworn enemies, so their bond had a mind of its own, humming to life at inconvenient instances. The Force wanted something from both of them, that much Kylo knew. What that was exactly, he had yet to figure out. He was too fascinated by the scavenger’s Force essence to care. He couldn’t help himself, he had been what some would consider “a scholar” in his past life and her essence was a shadow of his former self. A brilliant and radiant expanding light with shots of dark tendrils hidden within. It felt like-   
The moment her mind completely bridged with his, he felt a sharp sting on his right shoulder, and he hissed in pain. He could sense someone was applying a fresh Bacta patch on her wound and she was somehow managing to remain asleep. She was also utterly famished. If she didn’t wake up soon, he would feel her questing tendrils reaching for his memories, desperately attempting to grab onto something. Sometimes it was a thought, sometimes it was a feeling. He knew she wasn’t doing it intentionally. She hated him, and he strongly disliked her in return. This new development was a recent inconvenience from their bond. The mind intrusion only occurred when one or both of them were barely conscious, and it broke past his mental shields every time. He sent a thought her way. _Come on, scavenger. Wake up.  
_ She ignored it. He felt another agonizing jolt as she began shifting through his mind. He fought back the urge to resist. From experience, he knew resisting made the mind intrusion unbearable. So he decided to help her out, and wrapped his mind around a particular memory from his past and threw it at her. She latched on. 

_"There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is the Force.”  
_ _“Very good, Goggles. Perhaps I won’t feed you to the Tuk’ata just yet.”  
_ _A small child sat in front of Ben Solo in a cross legged pose, her small fingers drumming her knees. Her eyes were obscured by an oversized pair of silver data goggles with red lenses that she refused to take off. Her freckled face remained impassive at the insult until she scrunched up her nose and stuck out her tongue, looking absolutely ridiculous. Ben coughed to suppress his laughter as she scowled. "_ _Stinkweed.”  
_ _“And you, kid, are a laserbrain moof-milker,” he said in a maddingly calm voice.  
_ _She threw a handful of grass at him._ _“You're a kid too, you know. You’re only four years older than me.”  
_ _“Four and a half,” he corrected. “I’m eleven, and in one more year, I’ll complete my Initiate Trials and become a Padawan. I’ll get to accompany Master Skywalker everywhere, even on dangerous missions. You on the other hand, will remain here. Playing Skorch along with the rest of the Ronto clan.”  
_ _Silence.  
_ _“I don’t like you very much,” she grumbled.  
_ _“Feeling is mutual, Goggles. Now, let’s continue.”  
_   
The memory disappeared and so did she, taking the light with her. He felt an odd ache in his chest. The same ache he had felt not too long ago, standing on a bridge with someone who lacked patience and understanding. Someone who had placed a callous hand on his cheek before falling to the abyss. Someone who loved him until the bitter end.  
 _"Come home. We miss you.”  
_ He felt empty. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: the quote " With a family like mine, I could be a smuggler who saves the galaxy, a diplomat who saves the galaxy, or a Jedi master who saves the galaxy. I don’t have it all figured out yet, Goggles. Ask me again in twenty years.” was inspired by Jaina Solo who said "with parents like mine I could be a smuggler who saves the galaxy or a diplomat who saves the galaxy" in TNJ: Dark Tide I:Onslaught. Written by Michael A. Stackpole
> 
> [The Finalizer](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Finalizer)
> 
> [Angels of Iego](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Diathim)
> 
> [Tuk'ata](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Tuk%27ata)
> 
> [Data Goggles](https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/starwars/images/1/16/FinnDray_holocron.jpg/revision/latest/scale-to-width-down/340?cb=20111110014248)
> 
> [Skorch](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Skorch)
> 
> [Ronto Clan](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Ronto_Clan)
> 
> Next update: 07/16  
> Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated, we would love to hear from you guys :)  
> -A and E


	5. Rey, Finn, Poe, and Leia on Mon Gazza

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry this is a couple of days late, rl issues got in the way.  
> We hope you enjoy!

Mon Gazza was a violent-poverty stricken planet. The barren and bright cinnabar red dust that composed the world reflected its tainted history. It had once been home to a spice mining colony, second to the Kessel system in spice mining production. In its prime, Mon Gazza’s podracing tracks had brought hundreds of spectators to the planet. A vivacious sight. The unique tracks, which consisted of unused spice mines, were dangerous and required precision and a bit of luck to complete. If a racer swerved a second late, they would meet a fiery death. It had attracted a plethora of anxious racers across the galaxy. But once the Empire outlawed podracing, Mon Gazza was forgotten and rotted away in the Mid Rims.  
The scarlet planet’s only notable feature was a faded light beige palace that stood tall and somber against the planet’s light rusty red urban decay on the mountains. Its walls harbored a sinister secret of a man named Ravi, a hotshot spice producer and dealer, who made his riches of the planet’s suffering. He was deceived and eliminated by a droid who took Ravi’s entire wealth for himself. Rumor had it that the droid, AD-W4, had painted the palace walls with the blood of the guards and Ravi himself to send a warning to his rivals. The bright red marks within the palace had sent shivers down General Organa’s spine but she had insisted to the others this would do.   
The members of the Resistance had groaned reluctantly as they set up base. General Organa had forced herself to stifle a laugh on their first night in the palace. Lieutenant Connix had let out a scream when she discovered the planet’s version of spider-roaches in the room that would soon become the medical bay. These spider-roaches were grotesque looking anthropoid creatures with a hard shell protecting their glowing green eyes and a sharp claw for a mouth. Unpleasant to look at, but harmless, General Organa had insisted. She sensed the weariness of her crew, but the Resistance was loyal and followed her lead without hesitation. Even if they didn’t fully understand her decision to make this planet their new base. Only Chewbacca and Poe Dameron knew why she had chosen this forsaken planet. It was the only one Ben, because he would always be Ben to her, had no knowledge of hosting a Resistance base in the Mid Rims. And as long as he didn’t, the Resistance would be safe here for the time being.  
“General Organa,” she heard a familiar voice call out from behind.   
“Commander Dameron,” she greeted him, “what news do you bring us?”   
“It’s not good,” he grimaced.  
She ushered him to the meeting room, where the other admirals and generals awaited impatiently for the intel Poe and his team had recovered.  
Down the hall, Rey laid in the medical bay. Finn watched as a medical droid applied a fresh bacta patch onto her right shoulder. He noticed the crease between her eyebrows and the inappreciable wrinkle in her nose.   
She was finally starting to regain consciousness. “Rey?” 

\----  
  


Rey felt as if she were drowning. Her mind was a violent ocean of dark currents that crushed her, sweeping her in the opposite direction of consciousness. Whispers and images filled her mind, trapping her in an invisible prison. Shattering her to pieces:   
An island, surrounded by Tuscan Sun Amaranth reefs.   
_Stay here.  
_ The back of a young boy with waves of deep black hair.   
_I’ll come back for you.  
_ A woman with round, emerald green eyes and bright golden auburn hair, smiling.   
_I promise, sweetheart.  
_ A child screaming, as a thousand voices screamed out in agony, only to be silent forever.   
_Come back!  
_ A young girl, with three buns arranged in a perfect vertical line, etching another tally mark on the wall of downed sand filled AT-AT.   
_Day 923.  
_ Kylo Ren, walking away on Eadu, his Force signature laced with disgust and restraint.   
_It is you.  
_ Rey wanted to cry out for help but her throat burned and the back of her skull still felt as if a thousand needles had been plunged into it.   
That’s when it happened. The whispers and images faded when the pressing sensation between her shoulder blades gave warning to a familiar presence. A malign energy of silent screams of rage and longing that casted a shadow over an incommiscible luminous light that was scarcely visible, but the shape of it was solid and clear.  
 _Come on, Scavenger. Wake up.  
_ Kylo Ren. Of course.  
Rey reached out for the light in his Force signature relentlessly in a desperate attempt to anchor herself above the waves of darkness that awaited to swallow her whole. She knew she shouldn’t. She didn’t fully understand their connection, just only what _he_ had told her. That this was her fault for intruding his mind, that their bond had been forged over shared rage and loathsome for the other and that the best course of action was to ignore the mental link. Maybe with time, it would eventually fade and they could go back to being enemies.  
But that hadn’t happened, if anything their connection had grown stronger despite their attempts to ignore it. She had witnessed the repercussions of it today, when he had hesitated to kill her. Bond or no bond, this was _Kylo Ren,_ a dangerous man whose volatile nature resembled a plasma bolt. The realization that he hadn’t killed her, the way she had felt his churning emotions were about her, was too much to process. She should ignore him like she always did. But given that she felt as if she were being sucked out of her body by the voices that had plagued her, Rey didn’t care. She needed this.   
When their minds bridged, she pushed past Kylo’s trepidation to face the Supreme Leader, his irritation at a red-headed man with a pasty complexion. She was searching. Searching for what, she wasn’t sure, but there was something about the light in his Force signature. It was sturdy, despite such dark, empty space, the connection to the light in him felt good. Organic.   
Like _home_.   
He sent a memory of his youth into her mind and she latched on. Watching a young boy with a presumptuous expression facing a young girl who wore data goggles constructed out of an old stormtrooper helmet, the usual dark visuals replaced by crimson lenses. Funny, they looked similar to the ones she had constructed back home on Jakku-   
“Rey!” A disembodied voice said more confidently, a warm hand reaching for Rey’s to give a reassuring squeeze. The light expanded in the Force, unrolling and coaxing Rey back to conscious. Kylo Ren’s presence vanished, the distortion of the bond replaced by the bright lights of the medical bay and the low whirring of the medical droids rapidly applying another fresh bacta patch on her injuries. The sudden transition in energy startled her, and Rey’s eyes fluttering open to see who it was.  
She woke to see Finn’s tender smile. The tension on his shoulders eased when her eyes met his and they drooped to a bit of a slouch. There was an air of tranquility surrounding him, a pleasant contrast to the man she had first met on Jakku. Even his hair, she observed, had a relaxed nature to it since he had left the First Order, each curl twisting on top of his head.   
“You’re awake!” he faintly breathed, giving her hand another gentle squeeze, his dark brown eyes searched hers. “Are you alright?”  
“Yes,” Rey said, attempting to adjust herself to sit a little straighter before a sharp pain plowed the back of her skull. She touched the culprit point of pain. “Ow!” There was a harsh slash in Finn’s brows. “Perhaps not.” She sheepishly grinned as he gingerly ordered the med-droid to up her pain medication through the IV tap. The catheter had been meticulously inserted into her peripheral vein and heeding Finn’s command, it dispensed the much needed stimulant that subsided the lesion.   
Gratitude bubbled in her chest. Finn never ceased to amaze her. It was the tender way he cared for her safety and well-being that almost brought her to tears. In Jakku, no one had friends. It was a death sentence to harbor sentiments for another considering all sentients’ only objective was to survive. Rey had spent her childhood fending for herself, hoarding the measly portions Plutt would distribute, keeping the best salvage scraps to herself to trade for another day to live. Finn’s devoted affection had taken some getting used to, she had found it rather overwhelming at first but now she welcomed it. The man who she had told over and over again on Jakku to stop taking her hand now reached over and wrapped his arms around her in a warm embrace. She relaxed, breathing in his gallant but slightly sweet scent of Nightblossoms. Where she had once averted touch, she now literally and figuratively embraced it. Touch, she had learned, was how humans showed another they cared. Finn had taught her that, she proudly thought.   
“Rey, I was so scared,” he said with deep concern in his voice as he pulled away, clasping their hands together, “I thought you were dead-”  
Finn's eyes snapped away from hers when Poe and Leia entered the room. Finn discreetly slid his hand away from Rey, and nonchalantly retreated back into his chair. Putting distance between them as Poe’s inquisical gaze analyzed their body language and previous proximity.   
_Interesting._   
“Rey,” Leia sighed with relief, “you’re awake. How are you feeling?”  
“I got a bit of a headache but I’m all right for the most part.”  
“What happened?”  
Rey’s explanation died on her lips. She hated bringing _him_ up. But she couldn’t deflect and dance around the matter either with Leia present. Leia, like _him_ , was a Force empath. Skilled in reaching out to others in the Force and picking up impressions of an individual emotional state and feelings. Given the General’s impassive stare, Rey had a knowing impression the woman already knew what she said next. "Kylo Ren,” Rey tried again. She noted the flash of melancholy in Leia’s eyes before her usual pensive stare returned. She looked tired, as any mother would who was trying to hide her sorrow for the path her only son had chosen with every midichlorian in her body.   
“He was there?” Leia inquired, not unkindly.   
“Yes, I retreated to provide support to members of Rogue Three who had volunteered to stay behind. The Knights of Ren eliminated the team and I was struck by a war club that had a kenetite charge on the end.”  
“Are you certain you saw him?” Leia pressed. Her dark, liquidy eyes darting back and forth studying Rey’s for signs of withheld information. Rey fought the urge to fidget under the scrutiny. “According to previous intel, he was last seen during the invasion of Chandrila. Why would he choose now to resurface?”  
“I don’t know,” Rey answered truthfully, “but I am certain I saw him. He confronted me and we fought. I lost conscious and-"  
“Wait a minute,” Poe crassly interrupted, “let me get this straight: You fought Kylo Ren, he defeated you, and he just… let you go?”   
Rey narrowed her eyes at the man. Poe’s bewildered expression made him look like a gaping fish desperate for water with the ways his eyes practically bulged out of his head. Rey would have laughed had she not remembered they weren’t exactly the best of friends, and he was questioning her with low threatening implications. As if Rey hadn’t proven her loyalty to the Resistance and the cause on Starkiller Base. “I don’t get it either,” she calmly replied.   
“You sure about that, torture buddy?” Poe laughed. But his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, and his tone had a mask of suspicion laced in it.  
“I had to do something! Some distraction you created.”  
“Yeah, that ended with me beating him in a dogfight!”  
“Yes, which led him to _me_!”  
“Weren’t you the one who said, ‘We can still rescue Rogue Three if we face him, he’ll follow us?’” Poe drawled.  
His lewd gesture when quoting Rey’s own words back to her infuriated her. A warmth spread across her cheeks, how dare he undermine her like that in front Leia. She had been nothing but kind to Poe since they had met but she was constantly met with opposition and resentment that she didn’t understand. Poe was a pain, who had his heart in the right place, but a pain nonetheless who pushed her to her limits. An egotistical fly boy who never knew when to shut up.   
If she was being honest, Rey only tolerated him for Finn and she knew she shouldn’t engage, that she should adhere to the Jedi teachings of no emotions, only peace. But a viciousness cut through her subconscious, and her sharp tongue got the best of her. “You son of a-”   
“For the love of the Force, can you _please_ stop fighting like children?!” Leia’s sharp command caused all three heads in conjunction to turn and face her. “Look. I am glad you all got out of there alive. But Rey,” Leia turned a reprimanded gaze at her, causing Rey to flush again, except this time out of embarrassment and not restraint, “And Poe…” the pilot casted his head downward to hide his indignant expression, “you both allowed your emotions to get in the way of the mission.”   
“What?! Wait, we retrieved the intel!” Poe cried out, flabbergasted.   
“At what cost?” Leia retorted, “You lost the majority of your pilots and half of Rogue Three!”  
Rey sensed this went beyond the devastating loss of Rogue Three and she glanced over at Finn, who quirked his eyebrow at her. He had felt it too. With an elusive nod, they both repositioned their attention to the scene unfolding.  
“You start an attack, you follow it through,” Poe reasoned, without a hint of regret.  
“Poe, get your head out of your cockpit! There are things you cannot solve by jumping in an X-Wing and blowing something up! I need you to learn that!” she pleaded in a hoarse voice. “I thought you had learned that after losing our bombing fleet in the battle of D’Qar, but I was mistaken.”  
“There were heroes in that mission!”  
“ _Dead_ heroes,” she stated bluntly. “No leaders.”  
The room fell silent as Poe’s eyes widened, speechless by the General’s remark. _She’s right.  
_ “The only one who acted like a leader on this mission was Finn. He successfully recovered the intel and guided the remainder of our troops to safety. Which is why he is leading the next mission. Poe you will accompany him as his pilot. Rey will have to sit this one out, I have a special mission for you. Finn and Poe, I will discuss your mission further in the briefing, which will begin soon. After that, I will tell you where I’ll be sending you. Rey, do you feel like you’re up for the briefing?”  
Rey hesitated. “Um, I think I want to go for a run on the speedway and head for the training ground in Miner’s Town. I have a lot on my mind, if that’s okay.” Rey could sense Leia analyzing her Force signature. Leia’s energy rang with a hint of amusement at Rey’s growing frustration with her son. Rey couldn’t possibly fathom why, too enraptured in finding an outlet to unleash her aggression to care.  
“Very well,” Leia agreed.  
Rey exhaled a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.   
“I’ll come find you and fill you in once it’s over.” Leia nodded at Poe to follow her and he lingered a second too long at the doorway before following the General. His skeptical stare resting on Finn before departing the medical bay.  
A rueful sigh escaping his lips. “I should follow them.” Finn pulled her into a tight embrace before leaving, “We’ll talk later, okay? I want to at least see you off before we go.”  
“Sure.” She reassuringly smiled, maintaining her composure until Finn’s footsteps receded in the grim hallways of the castle.   
Rey groaned, slumping into the comfort of the medical gurney before wincing yet again at her injury. Alone, surrounded only by the med-droids and the dripping rhythm of her IV, she had no place to hide her secrets. Her repressed emotions reached the surface and she reeled on the fact that Kylo Ren had let her go. He had called it a “momentary truth.” But a momentary truth of what? He had told her over the bond multiple times their connection meant nothing. They were on opposite sides of the war, whose fate would end at the blade of the other, so they would act accordingly the day they crossed paths again. There was no point in indulging whatever cruel, cosmic joke their connection was by pretending otherwise. He had made that clear that one time she had stupidly reached out to comfort him when she recognized the loneliness he felt.  
If she had her timeline correct, based on the last intel the Resistance had received, he had been on Chandrila when the bond had hummed to life. He had been thinking of two people he had loved the most. Someone he considered his brother and a girl who had meant everything to him, which had sent a strange, gnawing feeling into the pit of Rey’s stomach that she couldn’t put into words and she avoided the complication by not looking into it. She had been more fascinated by their shared loneliness and for a moment, through their bond, she felt his tremors and falters of regret and self-loathing because he felt so alone.  
Like she did.   
It wasn’t the first time she had felt his conflict. She had felt it multiple times, his conflict alternating between what he had done to Han, his “brothers” and that girl. But this had been the first time she felt weak enough to act on her desire to find someone who would understand. Her moment of weakness had been a product of the fresh wound of Luke’s rejection, her failure to convince him to return, and her loneliness from training under Leia, who was, and still is, a great teacher. But she has a Resistance to run, and she had left Rey to figure out past the basics on her own and Rey had wanted to understand Kylo. It was hard not to, thanks to their bond.   
But he wasn’t having any of it, he had slammed down his mental shields on her and expelled her out of his mind with such force, she had physically staggered backwards. Rey had never made that mistake again. She avoided acknowledging him whenever the bond hummed to life since, until today.  
Then there was the matter of her dreams. They had begun to pick up on their intensity and vividity, haunting her very being because she could not shake this horrible sinking feeling that there was truth to those visions. They were not dreams but Force visions of events that had passed, events that she didn’t remember but he knew something about. She was certain of it. That memory he had shared with her, of that little girl with the goggles in his memory that resembled the ones she had salvaged as a child on Jakku just didn’t sit right with her.   
_It is you.  
_ He was going to ruin everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update will be 08/03!


	6. Kylo Ren, General Hux, and Snoke on the Supremacy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! We hope you enjoy :)  
> -E  
> QUICK DISCLAIMER: There are spoilers from Leia’s canon book Bloodlines.

Hux smoothed a non-existent crease on the cuff link of his uniform in what was another failed attempt to ease his nerves. He still struggled to find some sort of semblance to peace whenever the Supreme Leader summoned him to his personal flagship. The _Supremacy_ was a thirteen thousand, two hundred thirty nine meter Mega-class Star Dreadnought with a colossal wingspan of sixty kilometers. It had thirty two sublight engines and six fusion reactors complex at the starboard, allowing increased damage resistance and redundancy. The Dreadnought was armed with enough heavy turbo blasters, anti-ship missile batteries, heavy ion cannons, and tractor beam projectors that could have easily rivaled the legendary _Battle Dragons_ of the Dragon Nest cartel.  
But unlike the _Battle Dragons,_ the _Supremacy_ was designed to act as a command center _and_ a battleship. It housed well-stocked raw material reserves, eight durasteel foundries, and an asteroid mining complex for harvesting raw material directly from asteroid fields. It carried product lines, droid manufacturing facilities, shipyards, R&D Labs acting as a test bed for First Order military advances and it possessed ten military staging areas, each area able to accommodate a full division of sixteen thousand stormtroopers and the army training centers were used to indoctrinate young cadets.  
The destruction the _Supremacy_ could cause mirrored a full fleet, and its production capabilities compared to a full-fledged planet which ensured they could operate independently for years without having to make planet-fall. Supreme Leader Snoke had been set in his ways and refused to designate a world as the First Order’s capital and Hux had agreed, helping formulate the design of the _Supremacy._ The destruction of Hosnian Prime had served as a lesson and reinforcement of Snoke’s convictions. While fixed capitals were cultural centers, having their own gravity and attracting fleets to economic muscles to intellectual talent, they were, however, also sinking holes, vulnerable to enemy attack.   
Hux’s lips curled, the former capital of the New Republic had been reduced to churning embers in the vacuum of space. Shattered planetary cores being slowly drained into rings of dust and ashes. He had done that, he thought proudly. He was the one who had created Starkiller Base and issued the order with Snoke’s blessing much to that loathsome creature he kept around as a pet’s protest. The destruction of Hosnian Prime would remain a monument to the day the First Order had shown the galaxy their true capabilities, sweeping away the Republic's weakness, reestablishing the Empire's principle rule through strength and discipline.  
While Starkiller had been destroyed, a minor inconvenience really, the name Armitage Hux was now known throughout the galaxy. The executioner of the New Republic, innovator of the First Order’s technological revolution and builder of the First Order’s armies, and very soon, destroyer of the Resistance. Nothing would oppose Hux, he would destroy whoever and whatever he had to in order to reach his goal. Once Coruscant fell, The First Order would need a Supreme Leader who could rule the galaxy with planned and restricted control, one who knew true discipline and that leader was certainly not Snoke, and it was _definitely_ not Ren.  
The Order could have overtaken the core world systems by now had Snoke kept his focus instead of authorizing Kylo Ren an inane manhunt for a mysterious map that would lead to the legendary Luke Skywalker. Both master and apprentice feared Skywalker’s return and on a technical level, Hux knew they had legitimate reasons too. After all, flames of rebellion continued to burn across the galaxy because of this simple farm boy. While Hux knew the Force was real, he would be a fool to not believe considering he had personally experienced the many different excruciating forms of physical inflictions this sorcery could spawn thanks to Ren, he also knew the Jedi was an ancient religion, these “galactic peacekeepers” reduced to nothing but mythical warriors and an echo of history. And if the Draven Crisis from years earlier had taught Hux anything, it was that the old Jedi order had died with the Old Republic. Skywalker’s rickety space scow order had failed to amount to the former glory and never would have.  
Granted, not all failures could be pinned solely on Skywalker. When Chief of State Mon Mothma granted Skywalker permission to start the Junior Academy, she had prematurely disarmed the New Republic fleet. Decommissioned heavy weapons out of service trusting Skywalker’s Order would assume the role of protecting the fledgling New Republic. Skywalker’s Jedi nor Mon Mothma had not been prepared for Lumiya, Dark Lady of the Sith. She had been the apprentice of Vader himself and one of the Emperor’s Hands. Despite Mara Jade and Luke Skywalker’s endeavor to hunt down what remained of Palpatine’s personal assassins, they had greatly underestimated the woman. She was given free reign by the Supreme Leader to do what she thought was necessary to ostracize the New Jedi Order. The Lady of the Sith had eagerly begun by reinvigorating Project Harvester.  
Meanwhile Hux, along with his father, Brendol Hux, and the rest of Shadow Council had been tasked with distracting the New Republic from the developing First Order. He had found the idea of working alongside criminal organizations to be unethical, after all, the First Order intended to honor the dreams of the Empire: To unite the galaxy under a wise authoritative leader. Joining forces with criminals seemed counter productive, yet the decision had proven to be a wise one. The Brotherhood of Wires and Bones, and the Rinnrivin and Dragon Nest cartels had served as a perfect ruse.  
The crisis had unearthed a philosophical gap between the senate that had turned into a broadening gap when Mon Mothma fell ill. That broadening gap soon turned into a crevasse under New Chief of State Tai-Lin Garr’s leadership, a crevasse so deep, it exposed just how fragile the peace really was. Many senators grew disillusioned with the New Republic’s lack of aid and response to the crisis as the two political parties, the Centrists and Populists, continued to dig themselves into a deeper bureaucratic mire and continued to delay every motion that could have potentially made a difference. The centrists were hungry for a more authoritative leadership. It was child’s play, how effortlessly it had been to convince those senators to conceal and finance the First Order.  
Carise Sindian from House of Thul had been one of the earliest endorsers. She had been the junior legislature of Arkanis during the time Snoke had served as the representative of the Arkanis sector in the New Republic. Under his tutelage, the descendant of Elaina Thul had lived up to her House name, who had a rather colorful history with the Empire. Rumor had it she had been the childhood friend of a young Ben Solo and also the one who introduced him to Snoke.   
Ben Solo, a name that caused Hux to physically cringe into himself. That kid had been the New Republic’s war hero during the crisis. But how the mighty had fallen, Hux amused. Perhaps that was why Snoke had forbidden the name Ben Solo from being spoken amongst the First Order personnel and sworn the few generals who knew Kylo Ren’s true identity to secrecy. It was another reason he forced that vile creature to wear that ridiculous helmet. Not that Hux minded, he _hated_ Ren’s hair. It was an assault to the eye and breached every First Order rule regarding cleanliness and order.  
When Hux took his rightful place as leader, he would make sure Ren knew he was no longer exempt from following his orders—and his first order in action will be to make Ren cut his mop of hair off of that hollow head!   
Because Kylo Ren was nothing without Snoke. Among the First Order hierarchy, Ren had no military rank, he existed and operated as Snoke’s personal lapdog and Ren had obliterated any lingering chance he may have had to be Ben Solo again. The legendary son of a war hero and a princess and heir to the Skywalker dynasty. And no Snoke meant no one would be around to protect Ren and the delight that sparked within Hux well-  
He silenced his private thoughts as the doors of the turbolift slid open, scowling himself for giving voice to a private thought that the Supreme Leader could easily pluck from his mind and execute him for treason on the spot. He stepped onto Snoke’s private domain, an enormous vast chamber veiled by an opaque red curtain centered at the heart of the _Supremacy._   
The First Order’s Leader sat on his throne, flanked by the eight members of his crimson-armored Elite Praetorian Guards. Snoke was draped in ornate, golden khalat robes with a gray underdress, tied at the waist by an elegant gold belt.  
“Allegiant General Hux, I handed you a war hammer and you handed it over to a nug-gnat,” Snoke said, not even bothering to conceal his contempt.   
“A minor setback,” Hux assured, “I was not expecting Kylo Ren’s arrival. But my men have the situation under control. The opposition we met in Eadu has been dealt with and given the information syphoned to the Resistance, we have decided to move the invasion two standard days earlier.”   
“And you deem that wise, General?   
“The weapon will be ready in time once the invasion is complete, I assure you.” Hux raises his head to look at the Supreme Leader. “We will have the Resistance tied to the end of a string.   
Snoke led out a hum and waved his fingers in a dismissive motion. But Hux knew what was coming. He braced himself for the inevitable as goosebumps began to raise in warning as the questioning tendrils grazed his conscience. The only reason he didn’t give in to his body’s physical need and shudder was because he still had his pride.   
“Anything else, General Hux?” Snoke asked, retreating from his mistreatment.  
Hux gritted his teeth. “Yes, Supreme Leader. The traitor was located and taken into custody aboard the _Night Buzzard_ by the Knights of Ren. While I would have much rather preferred a public execution to remind the natives who exactly it is they dare defy, Ren has always been rather… impulsive.”   
“Ah, yes,” Snoke sneered. “The worthless wayward found his way home. Tell me General, how do you find my young apprentice?”   
_He is unstable and a danger to First Order personnel, a ticking detonator set to go off any minute. He’s crass and defiant, a cocky flyboy playing dress up walking in Darth Vader’s shadow._ “He does not spark confidence.” Hux enunciated each word, letting the hidden implications behind them hang in the air.   
Snoke’s long fingers drummed together, his beady eyes narrowing on Hux. “You sense a weakness in my apprentice.”  
Hux grinned.   
“Tell me _everything._ ” 

\----  
  


She was going to ruin everything. Or perhaps she already had, given how there was a bit of a sardonic sound to his master’s chuckles that resonated in the crimson room as Kylo Ren stepped out of the turbolift. _He knows_.  
“Tied on a string indeed, Allegiant General Hux. Well done. The Resistance will soon be in our grasp.”  
Kylo Ren studiously ignored the cold tendrils that had begun to coil around his chest. He refused to let his steps falter, or give any signal to the omnipotent creature he was fazed by this cryptic declaration. No, Kylo hadn’t survived all these years under the harrowing creature’s tutelage by showing fear. He straightened his shoulders and took his rightful place next to Hux, who was all but looking a little too smugly for Kylo’s taste.   
“It seems Hux's new toy is almost complete, my young apprentice.” Snoke directed his attention to Kylo, a sinister smirk forming at the edge of his lips. “Your favorite general will do what you could not and bring Organa’s rabble to heels.”  
Kylo clenched his fists but said nothing. He had no desire to speak to his master, not after everything that had happened. Not after everything he had unveiled on that desolate desert planet.   
“Thank you, Supreme Leader,” Hux said before stepping in the direction of the turbo lift, flashing one last self righteous grin at Kylo’s direction. Kylo all but resisted the murderous thought to strangle Hux with his cloak or shove the pasty general into the nearest trash compactor. But that would be too obvious. He could almost see his aunt’s green eyes narrowing at his faulty impulsive thoughts. His aunt had been a former spy who had never quite given up the trade, she had taught him a thing or two.

_"Close your eyes and locate a partially blocked artery in his brain… Good. Now open your eyes. You want to learn how to be subtle, kid? All you would have to do is pinch that artery off. Then bang, he’s down and it’s over. No one would know it was you.”_

“You wonder why I moved a rabid cur to such a high place of power,” Snoke’s voice brought Kylo back to the present and he immediately kneeled down before the Supreme Leader, choosing to stare down at the onyx floor. “A cur’s weakness, properly manipulated, can be a sharp tool.” Snoke rose from his throne. He wasn’t as tall as his holoprojection portrayed him to be, but he was still a fearsome sight, hovering just shy of seven feet tall. “I sense that you and your Knights have yet to find Skywalker.”   
“My Knights and I narrowed Skywalker down to three different systems with confirmed ancient Jedi Temples. Jedha, Tython, and Ossus. We were unable to locate him in Tython and Ossus. We will be heading to Jedha next.”  
“No. Your Knights will be heading to Jedha. After dropping them off on Varnak and providing them their objectives, you will come back and remain _here._ ”   
_What?  
_ The smirk that spread across the creature's face made Kylo suddenly wonder if he had spoken those words out loud. But who was he kidding? He didn’t have to, Snoke had a way of always knowing.   
“Supreme Leader?”   
“You have come back empty handed, Kylo Ren. Even after I gave you clear instructions to not return until you had proven yourself worthy to finish your training. So, that leads to my next question: _Why are you here?  
_ Kylo Ren hesitated, a thousand excuses that did not involve the scavenger dying on his lips the moment Snoke seized the opportunity to exploit his weakness.   
“Take that ridiculous thing off.”  
Kylo let his fingers linger at the hilt of his helmet, as he pressed down and slid the helmet of his head, letting it land with a thunk at Snoke’s feet. Snoke took in his disheveled appearance. Observing and memorizing the sunken bruises under his eyes, the scar that jagged and extended from his right eyebrow to his jaw, and the slight twitch underneath his left eye.  
“Your alliance to the cause has been questioned, _boy._ ”   
Kylo couldn’t help but scoff, glancing up to glower at the creature before him. “If you mean Hux, he is not to be trusted. You must know his mind. He wants to take your place, he wants to kill you.”  
“He wants to kill a lot of people,” Snoke said dismissively. “I don’t take it personally. “   
“I have given everything I have to you. To the dark side,” Kylo hissed. “Everything. I killed my fath- I killed Han Solo.”   
“And the act split your spirit to the bone.”   
Before Kylo could tell the Supreme Leader to kindly switch off, a small part of him screamed, _Shut up, don’t provoke him! You can’t protect her if he knows._   
Wait, protect her? Where had that come from? He wanted to be free of the scavenger. Not help her. _You could have been freed of her. You had the opportunity to kill her. Why didn’t you?_ That traitorous voice shot back.   
“No. Not everything. What about the girl?” Snoke asked. “I know she was on Eadu… What did you do to her?”  
A dark energy filled and suffocated the atmosphere as an ominous silence stretched between master and apprentice. “What are you hiding, boy?”  
Kylo felt the familiar crushing pain at the side of his head that began to come and go in agonizing patterns as the dark tendrils stretched out and probed through his mind. He closed his eyes then, attempting to fight off the electrical jolt that was pulsating hard and hot throughout his body. Snoke moved with ease and unnecessary force through his memories. Determined to find what he was looking for.   
Not that there wasn’t much left for his master to glimpse at to begin with. Most of Kylo’s memories were shattered remnants. Some memories only bruised and jagged along the edges, others completely distorted that the pain they brought would thrash violently around his skull, in a desperate attempt to crack it open.  
But there were a few pleasant memories Kylo had left that Snoke had not been able to touch and never would. Blame it on his defiant nature, Kylo didn’t know how he had managed to hold on to something good this long without Snoke discovering it. Because Snoke in the end always did, and the Supreme Leader had a special way of handling anything good in Kylo’s life. He had done it in the before when Snoke had taken and destroyed it all.  
“When I found you, I saw what all masters live to see. Raw, untamed power… and beyond that, something truly special. The potential of your bloodline… I chose to see past your weakness and your foolishness, thinking I could use your rage and hatred to sculpt you, make you stronger than Vader ever dreamed to be. But it seems I was mistaken. I see the problem.” Snoke paused then, and Kylo opened his eyes to see his master peering down at him with an eyebrow raised after glancing at a particular memory:

 _"You’re not alone, Ben.”  
_ _"Neither are you.”_

How old had they been then? Twelve and eight? Kylo couldn’t remember.   
“You are no Skywalker, young Solo,” he snarled. “Childish sentiments have blinded you. You omitted the truth on Starkiller Base. You hid that girl’s identity until after she had escaped and your little expedition to Jakku confirmed your suspicions, hmm? The scavenger girl is the same girl from Luke’s Academy. I wonder, how long were you planning to wait to reveal this truth to me?” Snoke released his hold and Kylo all but shuddered in relief as the dark tendrils retreated.   
“She’s supposed to be dead. The name she went by when she was at the academy doesn’t even exist in the galaxy archives. She had no recollection of me when I encountered her on Takodana. I wasn’t certain-”  
Which was the truth, from a certain point of view. While Kylo hadn’t been able to feel the girl in the Force anymore, a part of him _knew_ she wasn’t really gone. He had suggested to Skywalker to search Niima Outpost, because that’s where his aunt would dock her ship when she went to collect whatever treasure Lor San Tekka had discovered. Perhaps she had left the girl there. But Skywalker had dismissed the thought, he said Mara didn’t have any friends on Jakku because of course his ignorant uncle wouldn’t have taken into consideration the possibility of his wife having old acquaintances from the life Mara had led before him.  
“Trudgen tracked Unkar Plutt to Niima Outpost,” another lie. Kylo had remembered his name and location from what he had seen in the scavenger's memories. “Plutt informed me Mara Jade Skywalker had asked him to keep watch over her ‘daughter,’ that she would return for her soon and never did.”  
“I thought you said Luke and Mara Jade Skywalker didn’t have any offspring.”   
“They didn’t.” Kylo had actually accused Plutt of lying because his aunt and uncle never had any children. He had invaded Plutt’s memories, with more force than necessary because Kylo hadn’t been in the mood for useless games. He discovered that Plutt had in fact been telling the truth. “It seems Plutt owed Jade Skywalker a life debt from their smuggling days since he had caused her to lose one of her ships, the _Jade Shadow_ , in a deal gone wrong.” What he didn’t tell Snoke was why his aunt had been on Jakku in the first place. It was Jedi business that was irrelevant now. The followers of the Church of the Force on Tuanul were long gone. Kylo had made sure of that.  
“It was the start of Draven crisis. When the Rinnrivin Di’s Cartel attacked Hapes. The Jedi has been requested to aid and Jade was the first to arrive. She was one of the few individuals in the New Republic who knew how to navigate through the mist that led to the planet. Jade was presumed to have gone there with an apprentice and the girl.”  
“ _Hapes_ ,” The Supreme Leader murmured, “that’s a name I have not heard in a long time. Small population. No more than a few hundred thousands. Their consortium manufactured those exotic ship components.”   
“Yes.”  
“You know who's to blame for their demise, don’t you, my young apprentices?”  
“The New Republic. They where weary of the validity of the request and argued amongst themselves it was an intrasystem matter. By the time they reached an agreement and sent fleet, it was too late.”   
Snoke nodded in approval.  
“Their government was structured to let everyone have a say. That philosophical ideology gave power to no one. It turned the New Republic into a inertial, despite deadlock, bureaucracy.”  
It was because of the New Republic inactivity that Hapes’s population was destroyed. Ryloth had sent an emissary to warn the senators on Hosnian Prime of the expanding Rinnivirin Di’s Cartel days prior to the attack. In the end, his aunt had been the one to pay the price for their failure. She had been killed by Lumiya. Her ship discovered sunken in the violent ocean that covered the planet, and the girl was presumed dead.  
Kylo, or Ben back then, had always known his aunt wasn’t irresponsible enough to bring an eight year old to a planet that was known for conducting slightly shady business, war profiteers is what Skywalker had called them. And of course, Mara Jade would have lied about the girl’s identity so Plutt would keep her alive and he had, in his own way.   
Plutt had other scavengers watch over Rey, including a woman named Mashra who had employed a young Rey to loot New Republic and Galatic Empire vessels that had been downed during the battle of Jakku. When Rey was old enough to defend herself, Which was still a relatively young age, Plutt had stopped caring all together.  
“And you're certain she doesn’t remember anything?”   
“Yes.” _She hates me. “_ When I searched Plutt’s memories, I saw her. She fell unconscious once Jade ship went off world. She woke up unable to remember anything. Only the name she goes by now.” _Rey_.  
Snoke hummed, suddenly looking at him with sudden interest. “What do you know of her parents?”  
“They were nobody. People who threw her away like garbage and dumped her on Skywalker’s lap because they couldn’t control her.” While he knew a little more than what he was willing to say, Kylo had to bend the truth just a bit. He had other plans in mind for the scavenger.   
“But she’s not a nobody to you, is she?” Snoke sighed.  
“I can train her. If I could get her to remember, see the way of things.”   
“You’ve said that once before and it ended with her besting you, a scavenger girl who had never wielded a lightsaber.” Snoke sighed, as if he were doing Kylo any favors. “It seems that a reminder is in order, Kylo Ren. I will show you the powers of the dark side and free you of this pain, once and for all. Bring the girl to _me._ ”  
Kylo swiftly stood to his knees, throwing his cloak off his shoulders and took a step towards his master. A plea began to form on his lips because Kylo truly was an idiot and he really needed to learn when to shut up when out of Snoke’s stretched hand a stream of lightning sent Kylo sprawling back to the floor, leaving him reeling in pain.   
“Seeds of the Jedi Order live. As long as they do, hope lives in the galaxy!” The Supreme Leader fixed Kylo with a contemptuous look. “I thought you would be the one to snuff it out. Alas, you are weak. Just like your father.”  
Kylo turned his back on Snoke, fighting to keep the fire of his anger banked. He entered the turbo lift, and once the door shut he glanced down at the helmet cradled in his hands. He then kept seeing her face, the way her lips had parted in surprise, the way her eyebrows creased together when she looked at him. The few times over their bond he could have sworn it felt as if she had almost begun to care for him. 

_"You could call yourself Kylo.”  
_ _"_ _What kind of a name is that?”_   
_"In my language. It means Sky."_

 _  
_ And there it was again. That odd pull in his chest. Snoke had once said one could never be fully claimed by darkness if one was chained to the past. That’s why Kylo had made the decision to kill Han Solo. It was the only way to become who he was meant to be. But he had not been freed as promised, and it had taken him so long to finally understand that Han Solo was his past, but Rey was his light. He would never be free as long he remained tethered to her.  
Perhaps he should kill her, be free and done with the light, free of this pain, once and for all. Or he could stick to his plan and make her remember. She needed to know the truth. He owed her that much for not going back for her. He would just have to trust that Rey would make the right choice and choose him. Together, they were capable of achieving great things, their combined strength...they would be invincible. Yes, he would let the scavenger decide her fate.   
He slid his helmet back on as the turbolift doors opened and two frightened officers took an instinctive step backwards from the intimidating man in black. Kylo walked down the corridor, and spoke into his comm link, “Kuruk.”  
“What’s up, boss?”  
“Change of plans. Prepare the ship!” Kylo snapped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello peeps! Sorry there where no links last chapter. But here ya guys go:
> 
> The repurposed
> 
> [Battle Dragon](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Hapan_Battle_Dragon)
> 
> [House of Thul ](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/House_of_Thul)
> 
> [Lumiya](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Lumiya)
> 
> [ Hapes ](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Hapes_Consortium)
> 
> from legends. While in legends Hapes played a significant role in the YJK And LOTF series. In canon, Hapes is a small planet that produced exotic ship compartments. We used their war ships, called Battle Dragons for a cartel we created. 
> 
> [Project Harvester ](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Project_Harvester)
> 
> [ Brotherhood of Wires and Bones ](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Brotherhood_of_Wire_and_Bone)
> 
> [ Rinnrivin Di's Cartel](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Rinnrivin_Di%27s_cartel)
> 
> [ Carise Sindian](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Carise_Sindian)
> 
> Who for our story’s purpose is four years older than Ben.
> 
> [ Shadow Council ](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Shadow_Council)
> 
> And according to babynames.com The name Kylo comes from Caelum, the Latin word for sky.
> 
> Next update around 8/18


	7. Leia briefing the Resistance meeting/Rey training on Mon Gazza

Leia heard the jagged static in her memory. Static that carried fragments of those who were no longer children but not quite adults. The cries and screams that had come after, voices long forgotten except by the select few who had access to the frequency that intercepted their communique:  
 _“Twin Suns Leader to New Republic. This is Ben Solo-”  
_ _“Twin Suns Three to New Republic. This is Raynar Thul-”_ _  
__“Attention, New Republic. This is-Requesting immediate-”_ _  
__“- New Republic - an unknown air strike-we are under-”_ _  
__“- Our sh- are down-”_ _  
__“We have an emergency-Come-New-This is an-”_ _  
__“Attention, New Republic, we have an emergency! This is Isteana Kestis on Kef Bir, requesting immediate assistance. We are under attack by Shadow Academy! Repeat! Shadow Academy is attacking the Jedi Academy! Our shields are down! We’ve got ground fighting taking place! We desperately need immediate assistance! ”_  
That last message, the one that had broadcasted clearly with no interruption across the HoloNet against all odds, had been transmitted from a girl in a Ghtroc 720 Corellian YT-series freighter. By seventeen standard years, Isteana Kestis had partaken in the Jedi Strike Team assembled during the Draven Crisis, then had left the Jedi Order only to come back to fight alongside her grandmother to protect their homeworld, and had witnessed the loss of her friends and Ben. Leia had expected Isteana to cut herself off from the Force after what took place at the Jedi Academy, or succumb to the dark side. But no. Isteana was strong. A survivor.  
Which, in retrospect, made perfect sense, given who the girl’s family was; Luke had told her the story. The story of a boy who had survived the Jedi Purge of Order 66 and watched his Master get murdered in front of him by Clone troopers and of a girl from Dathomir who had buried the bodies of her mothers, sisters, and her lover. The last of her kind, slaughtered by General Grievous during the Clone Wars. They had to raise their small daughter aboard the _Stinger Mantis.  
_ A life always on the run, always hiding. A life filled with unrest until the Empire fell. Their daughter, Aley, became an Imperial Hunter and later the Head of Sector Security, and married Joph Seastriker. Who, well, after the four years of working alongside him during the Draven Crisis, Leia had gathered he was somewhat of an adrenaline junkie himself. Ana was her father’s daughter after all.   
With the exception of Seastriker, all members of the Kestis clan were survivors of massacres, products of endless war and conflict. They had been through so much at such a young age, but hadn’t they all? Leia certainly had. It was the nature of war, to put children through hell, to murder their parents and loved ones.  
After the destruction of the Jedi Academy, and a thorough investigation that concluded the attack had been due to an inside leak, Chief of State Borak had declared the Jedi could not be trusted. After all, if they could not protect themselves, how can they be trusted to protect the people? One of their own had turned against their oath. Which was ironic, considering that’s what a large fraction of the Centrist political party had done six years later when General Armitage Hux had obliterated the Hosnian system.   
It was such a coincidence many of those Centrist senators and even some neutral worlds had just happened to not be on Hosnian Prime for the senate meeting when it was destroyed. Perhaps that was why the Centrist that remained had begun to change their political outlook on the situation, realizing the First Order had not fulfilled what they had promised. A peaceful and loyal galaxy under one authority ruler. The communiques that had come In after Hosnian Prime had cried out “What happens now?” as messages haphazardly bounced from one transmission point to the next, ghostwaves that carried old Rebel codes and intel as what was left of an already fractured government relocated to Coruscant.  
The Resistance and what remained of the New Republic protected Coruscant as if their lives depended on it because, well, it kind of did. And despite the Resistance's best effort to stop and prolong the invasions of the First Order, the tyrannical regime had full control of the Outer Rim, half of the Mid Rims, and most of the Core Systems now, with the exception of Coruscant. But given the intel retrieved, Coruscant’s days were numbered.   
Leia thought of both of her mothers then. First of her adoptive mother, Breha Organa, who had looked at a young Leia and decreed that the spark of the famous queen and senator of Naboo, Padme Amidala, would continue to live through Leia. She had always found that declaration a bit odd, but had accepted the compliment nonetheless as she nonchalantly glanced up at the statue of the late senator. Then she thought of her birth mother, Padme Amidala Naberrie. The mother she had never known. Her mother had been present when the vote that had given Palpatine ultimate power over the old Galactic Senate was cast, and Leia could imagine the despair that must have been within her heart.  
Is that happening again, today? She couldn’t help but wonder. _My mother watched the old Republic fall—is it my turn to see the New Republic finally crumble?_ Luke had once told Leia that the Force moved through all living and breathing things of the galaxy, twining and binding all life Forces together. She cynically wondered if they were destined to live in this constant loop of chaotic poetry, an echo of the past doomed to rhyme and repeat with each new generation. 

_“Cal told me Merrin once said ‘Survivors. We adapt.’ But I’m doubtful. Do you think… Do you think we can survive this too? Because I can’t do this again, Leia. Not after what happened with our father. I truly believed I could protect Ben from the darkness. From Snoke. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t save him. I failed you. I’m sorry.”_

Greer Sonnel cleared her throat and gave Leia a knowing look. She had been Leia’s personal assistant for the eight years she had been Minister of State. She could easily pick up Leia’s shift in moods, and she knew in that moment the former Minister of State and Princess of Alderaan was brooding and reliving the past. _How embarrassing_ , she thought. But quickly shook the thought away. Greer was now more than just a personal assistant. She had been among the first taking part in the first secret meeting in a New Republic hanger bay when Leia established the new paramilitary outfit that would become the Resistance. Greer had been with Vice Admiral Amilyn Holdo’s fleet at the time Starkiller Base assaulted the Hosnian system and had quickly transferred back to be with Leia just two days later after learning of Han’s death.  
Yes, Greer was so much more. She was a friend. Leia subtly nodded at Greer before glancing at the spider web mess of the map the holoprojector displayed. Lieutenant Kaydel Connix also gestured towards the map with a slight tilt of her chin. _Right_ , Leia thought to herself. _Time to get this over with._   
“Thanks to Greer and See-Threepio, we’ve decoded the intel from the First Order spy. The situation is more dire than we thought.” Leia’s voice cut through the air as she delivered the grim news, “The First Order will invade Coruscant within the next two standard days.” There was an audible gasp from the hubbub before all erupted to chaos. Admirals, lieutenants, even the droids fought to be heard over one another.  
“It cannot be,” Lieutenant Beaumont frowned. “Senator Bevicard is a Centrist. Why would the First Order see the need to invade Coruscant?”  
“Are we truly surprised?” Greer sighed, her slender fingers systematically working on her datapad to manifest miniature ships above the holo disc, tiny and blueish flickering to life. “Centrist or not, communications between Coruscant and other sectors continue to grow problematic. Its fashion suggests that comm traffic is being heavily monitored and analyzed, despite our intelligence team's best effort of incorporating ghostwaves and old Alliance codes to communicate with our sister base. The Metellos Trade route and the Corellian Trade Spine have been under heavy monetization from First Order personnel for weeks. It was only a matter of time before the First Order realized Bevicard and the remaining Centrist weren’t going to submit to Snoke’s leadership. While we have no confirmation, we can safely assume Senator Sindian is behind this.”   
Leia gritted her teeth at the mention of _that name_. For a moment, she was back on Hosnian Prime walking to her office when a young, rather odd girl with long raven locks, freshly turned fourteen intercepted her. Carise Sindian. The second cousin of Raynar and Meredith Thul, Ben’s childhood friends. Carise had been smiling that lovely smile of hers as she smoothed out the non existent wrinkles in her long deep purple gown before nervously exclaiming in that melodious voice of hers. 

_“Princess Leia! What a pleasure to see you! It’s been far too long, hasn’t it? I’m the youngest junior legislator of Arkanis now. Just like you were. Except of course you weren’t the senator of Arkanis, er- junior legislator- I mean- you represented Alderaan. And oh- I’m making a rather fool of myself, aren’t I? I apologize. I’ll see myself out. But oh! Before I forget: Is Ben here with you? If you don’t mind, your Grace, I have someone I would like him to meet.”_

Greer switched the holodisc yet again, projecting a slender glowing figure. Long gone was that girl from Leia’s memory, in her place now stood a woman with shoulder length raven dark waves, decked in long silver robes embroidered with jewels to showcast Arkanis’s wealth and power. Only difference was her deep golden skin was bathed in a blue translucent shimmer.  
“Senator Sindian has convinced more than enough sectors to join the First Order’s cause. She may be young and charismatic, but she is a dangerous threat to what remains of the New Republic and the Resistance.”  
And a manipulative, conniving snake but Leia wouldn’t say that part out loud. As resentful as Leia was of the girl, she knew Carise was just another puppet whose strings Snoke pulled. Carise had never had a strong personality, she had been a sweet but rather meek girl. Always eager to please. She had clung to her title of nobility as a child, since birth she had been told bloodlines where everything. That they made you someone important.   
Ben had once told Leia that Carise had a poster of Leia from the Imperial Senate in her room. Possibly an exaggeration from Ben’s overactive imagination but Leia believed it. Carise had hero worshipped the legend of Princess Leia and while her imitation had made Leia the slightest bit uncomfortable, Snoke had taken advantage of the naive but rather shallow philosophy of Carise and tainted it.   
What Snoke had done to Carise, it gave Leia a horrible, griming, slithering feeling that reminded her of the first time she had met Emperor Palpatine. Terrified of the aura of evil that came from the man, she had dropped into a half-curtsey while he eyed her hungrily, proclaiming it would be nice to have “such a pretty face” in the senate. But Leia’s defiant nature had allowed her to push back against Palpatine despite that frightening first encounter. She had refused to be another simple lapdog who sycophantically validated Palpatine’s every decree. Who knows what would have become of Leia had she been a bit more like Carise.   
“Is that all?” Suralinda Javos asked. The Squamatan narrowed her dark eyes studying Greer cautiously.   
“I wish it were,” Leia spoke, choosing to ignore the girl’s eye roll that prompted what could be considered a glare from Threepio. “Our intelligence team received a transmission from Prime Minister Grits on Ikkrukk. The First Order has cut off their supply lines and disabled Grail City’s defense grid. Jessika, I believe you have personal experience with the FreiTek Planetary Defense system. Black Squadron, you will assist Ikkrukk against the First Order’s attack on their planet. Once you have thwarted the First Order’s invasion on their planet, we will send you the coordinates to rendezvous. Finn and Poe, given the restricted communication on Coruscant, you will personally deliver this intel to Commander Rose Tico and Vice Admiral Amilyn Holdo and help with the discreet evacuation of the New Republic and escort them to a new location. Emphasis on _discrete_ , Poe. The rest of us, we will load our cruisers and prepare our ships. This, here and now, is the only moment that counts. Friends, everything we’ve fought for is at stake. If Coruscant falls, if we lose the New Republic, freedom dies in the galaxy.” 

\----

Mon Gazza Speedway was a podracing course on Mon Gazza and the second race of the Amateur Podracing Circuit. This course was easy for seasoned racers, but it was also easy for an amateur to fall behind and not catch up due to the short length of the course.  
The race began with a straightway into a building in the center of the track. After a semi-sharp left turn, the racers traversed a wide track with few obstacles, only another building in the center acting as a divider. The course saw a U-turn and another straightway before turning left and into the starting grid. Because the track was so short, racers who wanted to win needed to get as far ahead of the pack as they could. High acceleration and sharp turning was recommended for racers.  
Rey darted along the speedway, managing to keep her distance from four objects trailing behind. Memorizing the path of the speedway and learning its history had helped her boost her agility and endurance. Kept her focused. She couldn’t help but remember growing up on the planet she was orphaned. Rey might have been a child of the desert, acquainted with the sun and sand of Jakku, but on Mon Gazza, she moved through the rocky terrain after jumping off the speedway as if she’d lived there her whole life.   
Such was the power of the Force. For those who opened themselves up to it, even the most foreign environments could become like home.  
Yet, ever since she left Ahch-To just a year ago, she harbored images that also felt like the past but she can’t seem to remember them. A planet with lush forests and beautiful lagoons. Another full of hills; land surrounded by a vast ocean. Violent, raging waves by day or whist and serene by night. As much as she meditated on it, Rey was unsure of where or when these visions took place but Leia did say that the Force always works in mysterious ways and with patience, the answers she seeks will find her when the time is right.   
Miner’s Town was as dead as the dust that filled the air, but Rey was very much alive in it. She breezed through the settlement that was founded to support the miners who worked in the planet's spice mines, neither stopping nor slowing down. She dipped under half-hidden earth movers and hopped over spice dozers, using the Force to reach an elevated height. When she rolled upon the rugged ground, she grabbed a hanging chain and swung over another dozer. Her breathing remained steady without breaking a sweat.  
But as fast as she ran, Rey could not shake off her pursuers. The training droids buzzed through the air behind her as they followed her off the speedway, four combat remotes—blue, white, green, and red—aiming at her with their stingbeams. Even though she couldn’t sense them as she could with living organisms, she was able to track these devices by their interaction with their surroundings. The sunlight bounced off the chrome of their surfaces and reflected light onto the environment. The puff of their maneuvering jets echoed while they whirred around the abandoned ghost town as the beams of their lasers emitted the scorched scent of ozone. Sights, sounds, and smells—all these senses clued Rey the movement of the remotes as she stayed one step ahead of them and their accurately timed shots.  
She also noted another robotic device in pursuit but a friendly one, orange and white, who whined as he struggled to keep up. BB-8, created with a domed head and globular body, was designed for starship maintenance and hyperspace navigation, not high-speed chases through craggy terrain. The uneven land and stony earth made traveling challenging for a droid that rolled rather than walked or flew. Still, using every tool and gizmo available to an astromech, BB-8 managed to stay within beeping distance.  
But the combat droids weren’t going to withdraw because her loyal friend lagged behind as they continued to zap her while she kept running to her goal, lightsaber hilt in hand. Their laser beams, as their name implied, could leave a nasty sting. But Rey wasn’t worried so much about the pain as she was about slowing down. Every second was precious if she wanted to achieve a personal best.  
She vaulted over some blasting tools and, using the Force, threw some of the explosives at the remotes. One of the explosives nicked the white remote, hurling it into the jagged ground. A beam from the blue remote scalded the air over her as she ducked and instead struck the green one, causing its counterpart to fizzle and die. With a quick swing of her saber, she ignited it and took care of the blue remote by deflecting its second beam shot back, disintegrating it.  
When Rey came to the edge of a canyon, she didn’t pause to get her bearings. Following Leia’s instructions, she picked up an old A-wing pilot’s helmet from a pole and fastened it over her head. Rey pulled the blast shields over her eyes and stepped onto the tightrope bridge that spanned the chasm, making BB-8 shriek so loudly Rey heard it through the helmet’s mufflers.   
The red training droid approached, whistling after her. Blind as Rey might be with the blast shields over her eyes, she wasn’t blind in the Force. Though she couldn’t see it, she knew where the remote was in connection with everything else around it, anticipating its next move. It fired from behind and she batted the shot away with her blade. Reaching the end of the tightrope, she jumped onto the bumpy ground and tossed the helmet away. She didn’t look back but she immediately climbed up one of the giant cranes. From the crane wiggled a red ribbon. It was hers. She neared it as the red remote swooped toward the crane and she launched herself, slicing the ribbon with her saber as she fell. The droid’s beam missed her, searing the ribbon instead.   
She landed on the ground, her boots thudding, but she didn’t stay there for long. She stuffed the ribbon in her pocket and she dashed across the tightrope, her ponytail fanning out behind her. BB-8 met her on the other side of the canyon and trailed after her, offering congratulatory beeps. She was going to pass this test in record time. Leia would be proud. Then she stopped, her heels leaving behind a cloud of scarlet dust. The red remote appeared before her, hovering as its maneuvering jets hissed at her. The blasted device was tenacious, she would give it that, but she had to end this game.   
Before she could raise her weapon in defense, the remote struck her shoulder with a stingbeam. She cringed, but the pain could’ve been worse as the beam was set on a lower setting. It was toying with her as the next round of shots bounced off her lightsaber, sending them back at the training droid. The remote might have dodged each bolt, but while it was reflecting the deflected beams, it couldn’t track her. Or so she thought. As she tried to run past it, the remote hit her again before she realized it had shot at her. She winced, more so from frustration than pain. There was no way a training droid was going to get the best of her—absolutely _not_.  
She lunged at it but the remote evaded her attack, looped around her, and unleashed a barrage of more fire bolts. Rey deflected the majority of the shots but she was still hit by some. Those really stung as the pain didn’t fade away. It must’ve increased the intensity of the beams.  
Now she was angry.  
She swung wildly at the device, breaking a sweat as she had on Eadu. She was breathing hard as she sliced the metal of some of the cranes, toppling them down without regard. The remote pelted her with lasers, each hit stung more than the last, yet the pain also empowered her. She would bring down the whole bloody town on the mechanical pest if she had to. It soared up and whirled around her. Venting her frustration, she hurled her sword at it, coming close to striking it. The remote rotated and thrusted away from her saber with its jets. Rey searched for the remote and it dove from behind. Its high-pitched whine meant that its next set of lasers would do more than just sting—it was done toying with her.   
The training droids had been programmed to analyze her actions and anticipate her next moves and at this point, the remote had made a number of correct predictions. However, for all its success, there was one crucial factor it lacked.  
The Force.  
The red remote could never predict that she would pull her staff from the distance, hurling it into her hand. She whacked the droid into a crane, shattering the red globe on impact. Rey let out a breath and rested her staff on the ground. She caught her saber as it fell to the ground, having switched off halfway. She had broken her old record, yet she didn’t feel proud of her accomplishment. She felt her emotions getting to her and it mortified her. She would return to her master not victorious but ashamed.   
Before she could start her way back to base, she froze. All went deathly silent before she felt a familiar presence as her surroundings faded, a ruinous storm filled her head.   
_Kylo Ren.  
_ He was angry, and annoyed. Slightly on the brink of becoming murderous but that was nothing new. Regardless, gooseflesh broke out on her arms when an image sprang to her mind. She flinched away though there was no avoiding the horrible sight: Kylo Ren, ferociously slicing a thoroughly robed hooded figure. She could hear his crackling lightsaber and smell their blood. It was not a memory nor a vision, but his desire of a possible future.  
A future where he could finally dominate and humiliate the one who had wronged him. A future where he could finally destroy the one that had caused him to lose everything, and brought him so much pain—his mental shields slammed down before she could see who would meet this unpleasant end. But she had seen and felt enough. His hatred for this person was laced with remnants of loneliness and hurt. Fear. Betrayal. These were the parts of him she understood. And while it was darkness, and she knew she should chide away from it, she couldn’t help but gravitate towards it. To embrace-  
The connection evaporated then, like a morning mist. Relief flooded her like a wave as her awareness slowly came back to the here and now. She was no longer inside his mind, but back in Miner’s Town.BB-8 stood besides her warbling, his beeps half curious and half concern. An observant and childlike droid, a question was lurking there.  
“Rey?”   
She whirled around, quarterstaff at the ready—muscle memory from the years spent defending herself from marauding Teedos and fellow scavengers willing to kill for a valuable bit of salvage.Her expression then softened as Leia Organa smiled brightly at her; However the corners of her eyes were creased with concern. The General wore her hair in braids wrapped around her head like a crown and her standard maroon trousers and tunic, a black vest and belt to complete the look.   
“Are you alright?” she asked. “I felt a disturbance.”   
Rey opened her mouth, the words catching at her throat. This was precarious territory, one Rey had yet to learn to navigate properly. She couldn’t openly say, “Hey General Organa, I have this weird connection with your son. I can hear his thoughts and talk to him from time to time when he’s not chewing the Luna-weed. Currently he’s in the middle of plotting a murder.” Yeah, there was no way to say something as horrible as that audibly. So instead she said, “It was the visions again. I-”  
Not a total lie. She was having visions and Rey had been forced to give whatever was transpiring between her and Kylo Ren a name when their connection had assaulted her mid-training session months ago. She had been unable to finish the training course, and despite dismissing it as nothing but mere exhaustion, Leia had given her this look that had made Rey feel like the worst liar caught lying in the history of liars.   
“I’m listening,” Leia prompted.   
“I just don’t feel like myself,” Rey said earnestly, “they frighten me.”  
“Start at the beginning and tell me everything.”   
Rey took a deep breath, using a Jedi relaxation technique to clear her mind and drive away the lingering darkness. After a couple of breaths, she felt the light cocoon itself around her like a vice and she explained what she had seen. “Kylo Ren. He was hurting someone.”  
“Resistance?”  
“I’m not sure. I couldn’t see their face.”   
The flicker of pain across the woman's face broke something in Rey. It always would. Despite the atrocities Kylo Ren had committed, the General continued to hold out hope he would return to the light. In these rare moments, when Rey got a glimpse of Leia Organa as a mother, and not as a General or Jedi Knight Rey silently cursed herself for not being brave enough to tell Leia the truth. About the light she could feel in Kylo Ren. But Rey had come to view Leia as the mother she never had, and she didn’t want to cause her any unnecessary pain. Giving Leia what could feasibly be false hope didn’t sit right with her.   
“And now I’ve made you sad.”   
“Not you,” Leia corrected her, “the choices my idiot son continues to make.”   
“Leia… What happened to him? He started in the light, didn’t he? How did he turn to the dark side?”  
Leia considered, caught off guard by the girl’s blunt question. The few times they had discussed her son had been in the aftermath of Han’s death but never anything as upfront as this. Leia knew Rey had been left flustered by the confrontation with Ben on Eadu. She had felt the ripples of her conflict in the Force, Rey’s uncertainty with why he had let her go and given the growing intensity and consecutiveness of Rey’s Force visions, Leia had known this conversation was long overdue.   
“I’ve been broken,” Leia began, paying no mind to Rey’s startled expression. Leia had learned with Ben that gentle words in the long run would do more damage than truthful ones. “I was broken when Alderaan was destroyed. I broke when my brother went into self-exile and Ben disappeared, and when I learned what had become of him. Then again when Han died and Hosnian Prime was destroyed. Every time I broke, those outside forces shaped me and I couldn’t do anything to stop it. I don’t think anyone can. So to answer your question, I don’t think it matters how Ben turned to the dark side. I think it matters when he broke.”   
She turned her palms up in a gesture of helplessness. “Ben was the commander of the Rychel Strike Team during the last battle of the Draven Crisis. I’m not certain how much you heard pertaining to those events during your time on Jakku.In any case, Ben and fourteen other young Jedi Knights were tasked with the destruction and capture of Lady Lumiya. A Sith. His third in command, Meredith Thul, provided the team her tactical analytical skills and biometric expertise. She was only an apprentice, no more than fourteen years of age. She had no business partaking in such a dangerous mission, but she was the best. Her mother, Winter, was the director of the New Republic Intelligence and Meredith inherited her holographic memory.”  
Leia couldn’t help but smile. “Winter was a dear friend. We were raised together from our girlhood on Alderaan. My parents took her in when her parents passed away. So Meredith, her older brother Raynar, and Ben were raised together as well. The Thuls were the closest Ben ever got to siblings and I always believed that when Meredith was older, she and Ben would date, maybe even marry. Things any mother would want for their child.”   
Leia felt Rey’s emotions then. Unconcealed yet complicated. It had elements of sadness and possibly jealousy? But that couldn’t be right, could it. Perhaps it was longing. Growing up alone in harsh conditions, Rey had survived but it had deprived her of a normal adolescence. Not that Ben’s adolescence had been normal, it had been everything but that. Yet he had been able to take the time to be young and do normal teenage things. Such as dating a girl Leia hadn’t approved of. When that “relationship” had exploded and burned worse than the destruction of the second Death Star, it had taken all of Leia’s self control not to say “I told you so”. 

_"I just don’t get why you guys don’t like her.” Ben, now fifteen, his face grown lean above a strong jaw grumbled as he stuffed what must have been his fourth well-cooked leg of some Avian into his mouth, the sauce dribbling down his chin. Leia shuddered before returning her attention to the sink, riding roughshod over Threepio in the act of cleaning the dinnerware.  
_ _“Hey, I like her!” Han exclaimed, sounding insulted.  
_ _“I meant,” Ben paused to swallow, “Mom and Uncle Luke, dad.”  
_ _“Han, darling. Kindly switch off,” Leia said. “Ben, I never said I didn’t like her. All I said was, I agree with your Uncle Luke. When I pictured you with your first girlfriend, I always thought it would be Meredith, and you were older. You're still a kid.”  
_ _“Meredith is a kid,” he scoffed, “and don’t get me wrong, I love her, she means everything to me. The same way she means everything to Raynar. You know, her brother.”  
_ _Leia sighed, growing more impatient every day with the hormonal defiant teenage slug that had hijacked her sweet boy’s body. “I don’t appreciate your condescending tone, young man.”  
_ _“I don’t appreciate you having every aspect of my life predetermined for me, Mother.”  
_ _“Ben! Damp down your power code,” Han hissed.  
_ _She didn’t have to turn around to know he had gently swatted the back of Ben’s head, Ben’s very audible “Ow” gave it away. Then there was some whispering. Hertwo boys conspire in mischief. No doubt cooking up an argument to persuade her.  
_ _Bunch of earworms._ _“Isn’t it family tradition to rescue people from the dark side?” Ben finally asked, “Uncle Luke saved Aunt Mara and grandfather.”  
_ _“There are worse family traditions, Leia,” Han agreed earnestly.  
_ _"Like your spice loaf.”  
_ _“Oh my! Master Ben!” Threepio exclaimed.  
_ _“Kid...” Han sighed exasperated. He ran his hand through his light brown hair that had specks of grey in it. A nervous gesture. Han looked at his son with a miscellany of pride, respect, and possibly even fear for his life.  
_ _“You think the dark side is scary, Ben?” Leia turned around slowly, a flair of dramatic so out of character for her that it caused Ben to falter his ferocious chewing of his sixth Avian leg. “Say that again to my face.”  
_ _He considered, before resuming his meal with an air of haughty incitement. “I’m okay. I like my body intact, thank you very much.”_

Rey must have not had much time for romance on Jakku. Nor had Rey had a “prying mother” to defy with her dating choices, or a father to scare away potential suitors. Leia felt pity then, for the loss of such an innocent yet irritating coming of age experience. Leia backed away from that feeling quickly, Rey wouldn’t appreciate the pity. Besides, she hadn’t missed out on much. Teenage romance, as whirlwind and magical as it could be, had its consequences. First heartbreaks weighed the most.   
Leia sighed. “Evidently, that never happened. The mission had a success rate of fifty percent which decreased by point two percent per standard minute. Of the fourteen, only eight survived. Meredith died saving Ben. He felt responsible for her death.”   
“Is that why he destroyed the Jedi Academy?” Rey asked hastily. “I guess I just want to understand why he became Kylo Ren.”  
“I do too.”  
“So you don’t know?” she looked puzzled. “But you said-“   
“I said I know when he broke. But Why he took on the identity of Kylo Ren is a question you would have to ask Ben… or Luke.” Leia took Rey’s hands into her own then and offered a kind smile, “I believe it’s time you go back and train with my brother.”  
“To Master Skywalker?” Rey’s face fell, and Leia saw the pain etched there. The girl’s first encounter with her brother had not gone well to say the least. Upon arrival, he had shooed her away. Figuratively and literally slamming his hut door in her face. He had sent her back to the Resistance, using the same backward mentality Master Yoda had used on him when her brother had cut his Jedi training short to come to Leia and Han’s aid on Cloud City. While Rey’s presence had been helpful and appreciated during the evacuation of the base on D’Qar, she had been left disappointed. “He’ll send me away again.”   
“I can only teach you so much. My brother, like you, experienced visions. He’ll be able to show you how to accept them as guidance from the Force. When you see him again, start there.”  
She squirmed, nervous, before nodding determinedly. “I guess I ought to pack then.”   
Leia pulled Rey in for a tight embrace. She reminded her so much of Ben. Before he had gone to train with Luke and Mara. Eager to help but hesitant. If Leia had known what she knew now, she would have never sent Ben to her brother. She would have kept him at home, safe and away from the destruction Snoke had been orchestrating from the shadows all those years to get to him.  
She wished she could do the same with Rey, but Rey was different. She was not Ben, she had no one watching her every move from the shadows and the girl needed a teacher with experience with what she was struggling with—and one that wasn’t running a rebellion. When the girl pulled away, she bit her lip. Hesitant.   
“What happened to them, Leia? To Meredith’s brother and her parents?”  
Leia paused, basking in the past for one more moment before answering. “Raynar died when the Jedi Academy was destroyed. Winter and her husband died on Hosnian Prime when Starkiller Base destroyed it.”   
“That’s horrible,” the girl’s voice broke, “I didn’t know them, but I’m sorry for your loss.”   
“We’ve all experienced loss,” Leia smiled briefly. “Now come. It’s time you take your next steps.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Actresses we envisioned portraying:  
> Greer Sonnel: Priyanka Chopra  
> Suralinda Javos: Tessa Thompson
> 
> Next update around 08/28


	8. Leia meeting with Red Stepla/Vestara Khai on Varnak

After walking Rey back to her sleeping quarters so she could pack, Leia had lingered a second longer to observe her shove rations and supplies into her bags before retreating to her private quarters. While most of the Resistance fighters complained about the bland and unsatisfying taste of the rations. Rey ate them without so much as a complaint. Leia had noticed the extra nutrition packs stuffed under Rey’s cot that the girl kept just in case. Another habit no doubt from years of starvation and never knowing when her next meal would come.  
It was like her clothing. Rey had ditched the scavenger rags and opted for a more simpler look—brown trousers and grey shirt with a royal blue vest. There were certain aspects of her clothing that she hadn’t been able to let go of. Such as the arm wraps, which were now the same royal blue hue as her vest. You can take the girl out of Jakku, but not Jakku out of the girl. Leia had learned that this inability to let go was Rey’s way of making sense of what was going on around her, a comfort of sorts after being thrusted into a war she originally wanted no part of.  
While the girl continued to remain adamant about not returning to see Luke, Leia knew a part of Rey was elated, even ecstatic to go despite risking rejection again. Rey yearned for adventure. An inability to stay in one place for long. Like Han.   
Han, who had proclaimed he was either going to fall in love with Leia or kill her. Han who had willingly taken on a mentoring role to Luke the days after the first Death Star’s destruction, despite his gripping about “farm boys.” Han, who stood by her side even after she told him her real parantage.  
Han, who would wake up in the middle of the night to slide into Ben’s bed to pull their son close and tuck him against his chest and whisper _“The dark man isn’t real Ben. It’s just a nightmare. If he is real, I’ll kick his ass, alright? You're my son. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you. It’s you and me against the galaxy, kid. Now go back to sleep. Please. I beg you.”_ Ben’s heart wrenching cries reduced to soft whimpers as he was lulled back to sleep by the sound of his father’s heartbeat, four-year-old logic convincing him his father was telling the truth.  
Han, who smiled, though it never reached his eyes every time Leia left, every time she put the New Republic before their family, again. Han, who he threw himself at mentoring all the young pilots he took under his wing when he opened up a flight Academy on Chandrila, teaching those kids the same lesson he had wanted to teach their son. Han, who used sarcasm and wit to disguise his concern for Ben’s wellbeing during the Draven Crisis and Ben, who like Leia, had taken awhile to realize Han was only looking out for him.  
Han, who was now gone. Because of their son. Because of Snoke. Grief was an aspect Leia still tried to make sense of, even a year later. She felt like she was a victim of a heart amputation.   
There were days the ache was manageable, she could breathe easier and almost be okay. Then there were the days she woke up expecting to see Han lying next to her, smiling that lopsided grin of his that could still melt her heart thirty-five years later.  
Her brother, Luke, had experienced this pain twelve years earlier with the death of his wife Mara. Luke had burned with grief when his and Mara’s Force bond had snapped. It left him broken and hurt. Lost. It wasn’t until Mara’s body became one with the Force that Luke realized Mara was expecting him to be strong. He pulled himself together and prevented Lumiya from using Mara’s death to destroy anything else. But it had come with a heavy price.  
Luke had been wounded in a way Leia could never understand. Even after losing Han. The breaking of a Force bond was a painful experience that could drive a person insane overtime. Despite rallying strength to lead the Order and mentor Ben, Luke had never fully returned back to the optimistic farm boy who had rescued her out of the Death Star’s detention center. Luke lost himself.  
Upon arriving at her quarters, Leia sunk heavily into a couch. She was in dire need of peace. She wondered how much she was supposed to suffer in a single lifetime, how much more she could take. She indulged herself in a self-pitying moment before closing her eyes. She visualised herself releasing her fears and anxieties, one by one. Stretching out with her feelings as Luke had taught her. Her breathing slowed as her mind cleared and her senses drifted. She opened herself to the Force, and found peace. She basked in the serene for the two minutes it lasted before opening her eyes to see a woman who struck an uncanny resemblance to a famous Dathomirian assassin named Deathstick.  
It was a bit unnerving to say the least. The woman was dressed in a tight-fitted deep fuchsia jumpsuit, the triangular shoulder pads sticking out in typical Nightsister fashion, with a blaster holster, vibro dagger and three poison darts attached on her belt. Her hair was a fine silver, the tresses cut at an angular dip that framed around her chin peaked from underneath her hood. Her skin, a porcelain white with gray skin markings obscured by a gray veil that covered the lower part of her face. The only reason Leia knew she wasn’t staring at Deathstick was because the woman in front of her had electric blue eyes. Leia blinked at her. “Stepla.”   
The woman folded her arms over her chest. her vibrant eyes scanning Leia’s face before leaning against the wall and snorting and pulling down her veil. “I would like to think we are past the point of formalities, m’am. Given our kids’,” she shuddered at the unpleasant memories, “unfortunate history. Real name is fine.”  
“Of course, Aley, forgive me. I am,” Leia couldn’t help but hesitate at this next part, “clearly overwhelmed. Take a seat. Did you-”  
“I did,” Aley replied, pulling out a datapad and sliding it across Leia’s desk. “Prisoners eight seven six five four nine classification C and eight seven two six nine four classification D. Currently detained in CorSec Maximum Security Prison.”  
“CorSec?” Leia murmured, scanning the information displayed on the datapad. Commander Joph Seastriker, New Republic Defense Fleet pilot. Detained and arrested in Hanna City, Chandrila. Charges: Anarchy and assault of a First Order officer. Ransolm Casterfo, former senator of Riosa. Detained on Hosnian Prime and arrested on Rosia per Senate policy. Charges: Treason, aiding and abetting criminal organizations, assasination of Chief of State Tai-Lin Garr. Found guilty and sentenced to death. Extracted from Rosia and pending execution. “Ransolm, I understand. But Seastriker? Why CorSec?”  
The maximum security prison was reserved for the most heinous criminals. Murderers, terrorists and drug lords. Not a defense fleet pilot who had struck an officer. Leia couldn’t help but wonder if her son was somehow behind this. If this was Ben’s way of keeping Seastriker safe. Surely Ben would have recognized him when he led the invasion on Chandrila. If Seastriker had been extracted to a lower tier prison he would have been executed. General Hux liked to make an example of Resistance prisoners. This had to be proof that her son wasn’t truly gone right?  
But it hardly mattered. All Leia knew was she had not recognized the moment her son had slipped into darkness. The guilt of knowing that if she hadn’t been so preoccupied with rebuilding what she had lost when Alderaan was destroyed, or salvaging a corrupt senate that was beyond saving, she could have reached out before it was too late to pull Ben back from Snoke. All those years she had spent convincing herself she was the only one who could hold the galaxy together, that sacrificing herself and playing martyr was for the greater good. She couldn’t see that she already had what she had lost. A family.  
A family with Han and Ben. Winter too. While she may not have been Leia’s sister by blood, she had stuck by Leia’s side all those years. Supporting every decision, even if she didn’t agree.  
Oh, Winter. Gone too.  
Leia shook her head. Determined to let what had passed remain where it belonged. Leia needed to focus on the present. She may have been too late to prevent her son’s fall to darkness but the Force told her she could still save him. It wasn’t too late. She had felt Ben’s remorse and excruciating pain when he had killed Han, the bond she shared with her son roaring back to life after six years. Her Ben was alive, hiding behind this Kylo Ren persona. If her brother was able to turn their father back to the light, the most hated man in the galaxy, she was more than capable of reaching out and saving Ben herself. By any means necessary. She would not die alone, a stranger to her own son. Never mind Leia had not fully forgiven him yet for what he had done. They would figure it out. Together.  
Aley shrugged, folding her arms on top of the chairs back. “Executive records officers are easy to bribe, but they are the monkey-lizards among the First Order ranks. More clueless than a Bantha. I learned that from your sister.” Aley Kestis’s frankness and rough demeanor tended to put off many. But Leia appreciated that about her, just as Winter had. Aley had little interaction with other individuals growing up apart from her parents yet she didn’t let that hold her back. It was why Winter had named her head of Sector security. Aley was ruthless and fought like a warrior. Having passed her Nightsister trials like her mother before her.  
While Aley was Force-sensitive, she hadn’t taken after her father and become a Jedi and she wasn’t exactly a Nightsister either. She opted for a life that allowed her to put her gift to use and hunt down criminals. Aley’s daughter on the other hand, Isteana, was strong in the Force. Ana had the potential to become as powerful as the legendary Mother Talzin, so Luke once claimed.  
“Yes, that does sound like Winter.” Leia chuckled before sighing, “Let me see who I can pull for this assignment before the First Order decides to move the prisoners again.”  
“I’m going to stop you right there. No disrespect, m’am, but I can put my own personal feelings aside. Greer filled me in, things aren’t looking too hot for the New Republic right now. My husband is more than capable of handling himself. My daughter and I will rescue him when the opportunity presents itself.”  
“And Ransolm?”  
Aley wrinkled her nose, utterly put off by the idea.  
“We could leave him there a bit longer. Let him suffer considering he’s a notorious Imperial sympathizer.”  
“Aley!” Leia scowled, though there was no real bite in her tone. Aley’s resentment was understandable. She had grown up fearing the Empire. Not knowing which day an Emperor’s hand would finally locate her parents, leaving her alone.  
But Despite Ransolm’s problematic hero worship, he had been Leia’s friend and co-investigator on the Rinnrivin Di’ cartel. Leia knew he had been framed for the assasination of Garr. She sensed it. Though she had no proof, she was certain Carise Sindian had been behind it. Carise’s ally, Centrist runner-up Borsk Fey’lya, had seized the position of Chief of State after Garr’s death. Criminal activity skyrocketed and Fey’lya outlawed the Jedi after the destruction of the Academy, forcing the remainders of the Order into exile or to integrate back into “society.”  
Those who refused to comply were arrested. With a demilitarized government and no Jedi Order to maintain the peace, Fey’lya had allowed the First Order to flourish—intentionally. The New Republic had become a club of power-grubbing barves who saw their duty in terms of their own interests. It made Leia ashamed to think she had played such a prominent role in the New Republic’s founding. Borsk and his advisor council had left for their homeworlds with personal yachts packed with treasure and left people behind them to burn after the destruction of Hosnian Prime. Kothlis had been among the first planets to fall under the First Order. Leia didn’t feel a hint of remorse that the Bothan was now dead.  
Aley grinned. “All jokes aside, that’s not the only reason why I’m here,” her expression solemned. “Team Mynock reported. They're in position.”

\----

Vestara Khai knew she looked good. She wore a tight fitted black and silver jumpsuit that left very little to the imagination, a vibrant red belt cinched at her waist to show off her curves and slight dip at her hips. Around her upper thigh, a leather belt concealed her eight vibroblades. A pity she had to leave her plasma energy bow aboard the _Rude Awakening._ But a Nightsister hunter weapon was rare and went for about fourteen thousand credits in the black market and she wasn’t taking any chances.   
Half her face bore an artificial tattoo to conceal the silver geometric facial marking on her skin. A two headed dragon whose tail snaked across her jaw and heads pressed on her forehead. Her hair, a temporary dye job, was black and reached mid back. Her lips were stained a deep wine shade, her onyx eyeliner accentuated the cosmic dark brown tinting that concealed her unnaturally luminous golden speck cerulean eyes. Her long curved lashes fluttered mischievously.  
She was the only ten in the sea of fives plaguing this hellhole of a cantina and based on the wandering eyes from the humanoid and Bothan sitting further down the bar counter, the inhabitants of said cantina were well aware of this too. She didn’t need to exert any Force skills to know despite her aloof and mysterious appearance, the men were definitely ogling her, and maybe just the slightest bit suspicious. She subconsciously reached for her blaster, hidden inside her boot. A necessary precaution.  
She analyzed their grim-faded jumpsuits and the leather cord that hung around their necks hosting small tools. They were pilots from Pamarthe, possibly in between jobs, who needed money fast. Harmless. Not worth a second glance, she let it go.  
Turning around, Vestara made a census examination of the loud cantina. The place reeked like a Bantha Nest of dark siders, but that was no surprise. Varnak had become the safe haven for the remnants of the followers of Ren, not that there were many left to begin with. She counted ten, recognizing a few familiar faces from the before. Adyna Akeldama, who had made Vestara and _his_ life impossible during the Draven Crisis and the brothers Craitheus and Marvid Qreph who had gotten their asses handed to them by Raynar Thul and Tai on Rhommamol.   
Fun times. She also counted three members of the Guavian Death Gang and a table of six Zabraks sporting Crimson Dawn symbols on the back of their necks.  
“Haven’t seen you in these parts before.”  
Vestara turned back around to address the long thin smooth blue-skin face of the Durosian who had come over.  
“In between jobs,” Vestara answered.  
The Durosian was silent, carefully studying her dragon tattoo.   
“Dragon Nest?” his voice clearly indicating he wanted more information.  
“Maybe.” She smirked.   
“I thought Dragon Nest wasn’t in business anymore.”  
Vestara raised a brow before setting the appropriate amount of credits on the rough counter. The male Durosian wasn’t wrong. ever since Dragon Nest’s leader, Crimson Blade, had died under mysterious circumstances, the cartel had taken a huge decline in territory and no longer held the influence it once did. She was the slightest bit offended though. She had worked hard on this disguise. Getting the black dye out of her hair later tonight was going to be a son of a slorth. Good thing there was more than one way to skin a womp rat. She widened her eyes, tilting her head before putting a hand over her heart. An aura of faux innocence. “Do you need me to prove I’ve got the choobies to belong to Dragon Nest?”   
The Durosian clearly did not appreciate her condensing demeanor. He gave a low hiss before pulling out a flask from underneath his apron. Vestara knew what came next. Dragon Nest was notoriously known for two things: their divulgence in potent drinks and destruction. If she wanted to prove her belonging, the reddish amber glint in the flask would have to be downed in three gulps, no more and no less. The glint caught the eyes from the nearby patrons who curiously watched the Durosian pour a full glass, then slide it over to her.  
“Port in a Storm. If you’re truly Dragon Nest, lets see it then."  
Vestara reached for the drink, gave the Durosian a smirk before tilting it back and drinking deep. The fire zoomed right to the top of her head and the core of her gut simultaneously but thanks to Greer Sonnel, who had worked alongside Vestara’s father during the Draven Crisis investigating the Rinnirivin Di’ cartel, she knew how to take it. Port in a Storm originated from Greer’s homeworld, Pamarthe. It had a reputation for taking even the strongest of drinkers to their knees. In three gulps, Vestara was done. She slammed down the glass before turning it upside down with a bang on the table. She smiled at the Durosian and the other patrons who kept glancing between Vestara and the bartender in disbelief. The entire room erupted into cheers. She grinned.  
“You got a name?” the Durosian asked, his scrutinizing glance now slightly softened.  
Ah. This part. Trained as a spy she had her fair share of names. Akuji, Thana, Alula, Ilyana Brie. Even the name Vestara Khai, the name registered in the New Republic databases, printed on falsified documents and identification cards was a name given to her by General Organa in the after. When she was whisked away to Hosnian Prime Academy of Law Enforcement to start a new life, because of what _he_ had done. To her amusement, she actually can not remember the last time someone said her real name. Not even her parents called her that anymore, much to her father’s chagrin. But he knew better than to go against a Dathomirian woman. Women who were used to ruling their men. Realizing after a second the Durosian was still waiting for a response, she pondered. Today, she was feeling a bit creative.  
“Jasmari Stryker.”  
He gave her what Vestara could best interpret as a smile, considering Durosians had no lips before announcing to the hubbub, “Rodian Splice on the house for the pretty lady!”  
She couldn’t help but roll her eyes before taking the squat glass and bringing it to her lips. That’s when she sensed seven heavily armed black clad figures enter the cantina. _He_ was here. She got further confirmation when Adyna, in that sultry voice of hers called out, “Kylo!”   
Vestara wanted to turn around and chunk the glass at the girl’s head and demand what had earned her the right to say _his_ name like that. That wasn’t even _his_ real name, damn it. But she composed herself.  
There was a reason she had been chosen for this mission in the first place. Prisoner extractions of this magnitude required an individual to be as unnoticeable and insignificant as a Mynock. Hence the team’s name. Her objective was simple: Give _him_ the option to surrender to the Resistance willingly or take extraordinary measures to make him comply. She had spent seven months hunting down and trailing the leader of the Knights of Ren. She made the executive decision that a place _he_ felt safe and his inhibitors would be lowered by “happy juice” was the perfect opportunity to strike. She could take out the Knights of Ren with a simple spell, those weak-minded sleemos. She did have Prowl on standby should anything go wrong. But she couldn’t fail—she refused to.   
Her mother and General Organa trusted her to not allow her personal feelings to interfere with Kylo Ren’s capture. Whatever she and _he_ had meant to each other in the before meant nothing. Not after everything that had happened. She was no longer Isteana Kestis, proud daughter of Joph Seastriker and granddaughter of Master Cal Kestis. That girl had died alongside _them_ the day the Academy was destroyed.   
Born from the ashes of a fallen order, she was now Vestara Khai. Descendant of Allya, granddaughter of Nightsister Merrin, daughter of Aley, clan sister to Mother Talzin. While Vestara was not fit to be a Jedi nor a Nightsister, events during the Draven Crisis had proven this. It had been why she had left the Order to begin with—she was no darksider either. Not like _him._ Which was ironic, considering all the arguments they had over the years because of her “unethical” use of the Force. For her “darkness.” How she wasn’t afraid of her shadow, not the way that _he_ was. It had been a constant tug of war between them, the darkness and light. Her grandmother had taught her the Force was beyond that. Trying to get _him_ to see that had been impossible, because it always turned into a battle of wits, of whose side was the right one-  
Vestara sighed before raising the squat glass to no one in particular. _You have become the very thing you swore to destroy, Sword of the Jedi._ Vestara tilted the glass back.   
_Here’s to irony, Ben._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Actresses we envisioned portraying:  
> Aley Kestis- Rachelle Lefevre  
> Vestara Khai- Anya Taylor-Joy
> 
> [Tai](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Tai)
> 
> [Deathstick](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Deathstick)
> 
> Characters from the EU repurposed:
> 
> [Winter](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Winter_Celchu)
> 
> [Borsk Fey'lya](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Borsk_Fey'lya)
> 
> [Vestara Khai ](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Vestara_Khai)
> 
> Btw This will have a Reylo HEA guys! Per the tags. There’s no love triangle or anything like that coming down the line either. If anyone here has read the FOTJ series then you know how Vestara Khai and Ben Skywalker’s relationship ended 😬  
> In my opinion Vestara was one of the best female characters from the EU (apart from Mara Jade, we stan the true queen) and it felt wrong to not integrate Her into canon in some way
> 
> Also if you haven’t heard of or played Fallen Order yet, here are who Aley Kestis parents are:  
> [ Nightsister Merrin ](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Merrin)
> 
> [ Cal Kestis ](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Cal_Kestis%22%22)
> 
> And other characters mentioned from Leia’s canon book Bloodlines:
> 
> [Joph Seastriker](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Joph_Seastriker)
> 
> [Ransolm Casterfo](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Ransolm_Casterfo)
> 
> Also, RIP Chadwick Boseman, aka King T’Challa. Long live thing the king, Wakanda Forever! 😭
> 
> Next update will be around 09/06!


	9. Kylo on Varnak/Snoke on the Supremacy

An odor—one that was half bitter, half sweet, and all repulsive—caused Kylo’s nose and the noses, or the equivalent organ, of the other inhabitants in the cantina to twitch. The fact the potent smell was able to break through the filter of his vocoder would never cease to amaze him. Like a can of sardines, visitors sat around long oval tables.  
Despite the original Ren’s reassurance that everyone here was either too spiced up or a smuggler, criminal, or anyone else with reason to appreciate animosity, Kylo remained reluctant and observed the habitants for signs of disorder, or treachery. He could never be too careful when it came to Hux. The other Knights shared his sentiments, with the exception of Vicrul—the only one forgoing the mask.   
Some individuals were merely drinking themselves to oblivion. Others, like the girl with raven hair sitting at the bar, who had caught Trudgen’s attention earlier, was throwing electro darts with perfect aim and precision at a board. On any given night, Kylo tended to not linger on Trudgen’s questionable choices of conquests.  
He hardly spared them a second glance. But this girl… there was something. She was extremely attractive. Even he could admit that, despite the dragon tattoo that snaked around half of her face. But that wasn’t what had caught his attention. It was her presence. The way the Force withered with mystique and malevolence around her. As if she were both a sweet dream and a horrible nightmare one would not want to wake up from.   
An omen.   
He narrowed his eyes. He had met a girl like that once before.   
Even now, eight years later, he was still bristled by her betrayal. She was and would always be his second biggest failure; Trusting someone like her. Here and now, he couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to her. She was, or had been, a darksider; Yet she had not joined Ren or Lady Lumiya. The alternative to that meant she must have been slaughtered during the second Jedi purge.  
Despite his uncle, Cal Kestis and Ahsoka Tano taking measures to not let the order come close to extinction as they had in the time of Emperor Palpatine—teaching their students what they knew of avoiding hunters and setting up secret facilities and frequencies should ever repeat itself—Lumiya and her rebranded Inquisitors she called Acolytes had hunted down and killed each Jedi that had survived one by one. Kylo was unsure if that realization made him happy or only a tad bit melancholy.  
 _Huh. So these are the sentiments that Snoke is always going on about._   
Kylo stretched out to the Force again, insurance it wasn’t her. Again, he was met with the same aloof but unrecognizable essence... That didn’t stop him from growing suspicious and allowing Trudgen to indulge his curiosity and investigate. After all, Chachi, the Durosian bartender that was the owner of this fine establishment, wasn’t too keen on outsiders.   
Trudgen eagerly left behind a bitter Adyna. She had leaned into Kylo, and he had to resist the urge to send a blast of telekinesis to keep her at bay. Not that she wasn’t attractive either. She was beautiful in a conventional way, long blond hair and big hazel eyes. Delicate features that hid her deadly combat skills.  
But Kylo was no fool. Like all darksiders trained under Lady Lumiya and Ren, Kylo was merely a game to her. He had sensed that after gently grazing her mind the first time they had gotten “acquainted.” Adyna saw him as a prize to be won, a means for instant gratification, and while Kylo was no longer Ben Solo, he did have standards.  
He was the leader of the Knights of Ren. Before that, he had been the Sword of the Jedi, and before that, he’d been the son of a princess. He had been subjected to false flattery and obsequious compliments his whole life. He had refused to give them power then and he refused to give them power now.   
Besides, he wasn’t certain Adyna would be vying for his attention if she knew the face that resided behind the mask. Darksiders weren’t known for being forgiven, the grudges they held stayed until death or avengement. They had made each other’s lives difficult during the Draven Crisis. If Kylo hadn’t forgotten the events that had transpired he was certain she hadn’t either. Not for a lack of saying he didn’t get lonely, he was human. But It was better this way, for all parties involved.   
Not to mention, the connection with the scavenger—complicated things. When the bond had snapped to life earlier, she had caught him in the middle of his own self-deprecating thoughts. He had allowed her to glimpse enough before the connection ended. It had unnerved her, and after a gentle nudge, he had sensed resentment and longing on her end. At what, he wasn’t certain, but the feelings remained.   
When Trudgen returned, he reported their mystery friend was part of Dragon Nest and she was working on her fifth Rodian Splice. Given her mean aim and left hook that had made contact with Trudgen’s mask and caused his head to snap back, she was definitely a “kriffing assassin.” Trudgen then silently made his way back to the ship with Adyna. An air of annoyance shot through the Force from Kuruk. He was one of the elder Knights, among one of Ren’s first recruits and the pilot and caretaker of the _Night Buzzard_. He wasn’t too happy that Trudgen, and on the rare occasions Vicrul, used the _Buzzard_ as their personal bachelor pad.   
Kylo offered him a half hearted shrug before directing his attention back to the mystery girl. The more he looked at her, he realized he had been mistaken after all. Her hair was all wrong. There were no bangs draped over a high forehead and her hair appeared to be naturally black, not a golden red dyed over. Nor did she have piercing icy blue eyes with gold specks. Her eyes were brown. Last her skin, it wasn’t the right shade either. The girl he was thinking of, her skin borderlined on grey, and she had geometric skin markings no facial tattoo could conceal. Satisfied with this conclusion, Kylo turned his attention back to his Knights.   
The other darksiders had now scattered around the cantina. The excitement had died down and Kylo had no use for them. Now, it was just Vicrul sipping an Eyeblaster. The others kept pressing their thumbs down on the service pad for another round of Spice Runner Hard Cider and a request for entertainment. An instant later, an electronic attention bell rang three times, signaling the visitors of the cantina that Bobolo Baker’s All-Bith Band was about to get started.   
Upon Trudgen’s report, the Bobolo’s flighty melody had begun to temporarily drown out the nightlife.   
“Where to now, Kylo?” Vicrul inquired, once Trudgen found his place. “Jedha?”  
“No,” Kylo replied, pausing as the service droids brought over the Knights Spice Runner Hard Cider. He admired the droids seven uniformly plated shining copper arms. His appendages looked more like ornaments than tools as they mixed and served, doubling as high end security for the more rowdy customers. “You're going to Kesh.”   
Vicrul choked on his Eyeblaster before eyeing Kylo as if he had lost his mind. If the service droid noticed, he didn’t let it show. It spun on its wheels and rolled in the direction of the mystery girl.   
“That old supposed world of the Sith hidden away in the Unknown Regions?” A’plek laughed, drink sloshing around the tall glass. “Why the hell would we do that?”  
“What about Skywalker?” Ushar demanded. He had been Ren’s right hand before Kylo had taken over the group. His irritating, blunt honesty had been among the reasons Kylo had replaced him with Vicrul. “Won’t Snoke kill you for going against his orders?”  
Kylo scoffed. “Contrary to what the Supreme Leader believes, Skywalker is no threat. He has refused to aid his own sister in this fight. The Resistance’s days are numbered—just like the First Order. I have other plans.”   
Vicrul looked at him curiously, slightly intrigued. “Care to elaborate?”  
“It’s time to let old things die,” Kylo said with a detached coolness. “The Supreme Leader’s reign is coming to an end. Just as the Empire fell with its dear emperor, Darth Sidious, I’ll make sure the Jedi, the Sith, the Resistance, and even the First Order, burn with him.”   
“The Sith? But there hasn’t been a Sith since-“  
“You think Lumiya’s still alive?” Kuruk spoke.   
“Didn’t Snoke kill her after-"  
Vicrul burst out laughing, slamming a fist on the table. “Who cares about Lumiya? I want to know if you're serious. You're actually going to kill old man Snoke?”   
Kylo’s anger shot like a bolt of lightning through him. He was tempted to reach out with the Force and squeeze Vicrul’s windpipe to inflict punishment for such defiance. But out of respect for Chachi, who was now eyeing them wearily, Kylo reigned. He tilted his head, allowing the silence that had taken over the table to do the talking for him.   
Kuruk, ever so observant, wasn’t wrong. During their journey to locate Skywalker, Kylo had sensed something dark and hungry in the Unknown Regions. Like a moraband serpent coiling in itself before striking—much like the late Sith Lady. Snoke had told Kylo he had disposed of Lumiya after she and her assassins, the Acolytes, had finished killing the last Jedi with the exception of Skywalker. The second Jedi purge had taken place in the years that had followed after the destruction of the Jedi Academy.   
Kylo had foolishly believed him. But something his fath- Han Solo, he corrected himself, had said kept replaying over and over in his head like a broken Holdo disc. _“Snoke is using you for your power. When he gets what he wants, he’ll crush you. You know it’s true.”  
_ And if he was being honest, after Jakku, Kylo’s trust In the creature had been deteriorating at an alarming rate. The Knights glanced at one another before nodding. A silent agreement passing through them.  
“Look at that, boys,” Cardo smiled, “the kid’s all grown up.”  
Kylo ignored their laughter. “You will report to me once you find Kesh.”   
“Where will you be,” Vicrul asked, “aboard the _Supremacy_?”  
“Possibly. I have some unfinished business I need to take care of.”  
“Hmm… Your ‘unfinished business’—does it have anything to do with this famous girl?”  
 _Great._   
“Don’t think we didn’t notice,” Vicrul brought the glass to his lips before peering over the rim at Kylo. “What is she to you?”  
“She’s nothing to me.”  
Vicrul stared at him, a glint of something Kylo couldn’t quite decipher, glimmered in his eyes. Something that bordered on pity and, possibly, opportunity. “You can lie all you want, Kylo. But remember, we practically raised you. We know the face of the man who hides behind his mask. Mister _Ben Solo._ ”  
Kylo found himself with his lightsaber swiftly raised. The tip emitting a crimson glow on Vicrul’s face, bringing clarity to his features. He was reminded of just how young Vicrul truly was. No more than a couple of years older than Kylo. Around the same age Rayn- _he_ would have been. From what little Kylo remembered from the before, the pieces Snoke hadn’t fried, Vicrul had been just a kid when Ren had rescued him from the depths of the silos on the dangerous streets of Rychel. Kylo had known someone like that once. Except instead of Ren, his salvation had come in the form of Skywalker and the person Kylo had once been. Someone he refused to think about even now—Tai, his final failure.   
“Oh no you don’t!” Chachi yelled in Durese. “You boys aren’t destroying my bar again, take it outside!”  
Kylo became aware of the silence then. The band had stopped mid track, and all the patrons seemed to be fixated on the brawl that was seconds from taking place. Except for the mystery girl. She continued playing darts. The thump and clatter of every perfect hit was the only sound that filled the cantina. That and the shrill scream of Kylo’s broken kyber crystal.  
“Don’t _ever_ ,” Kylo said through gritted teeth, “say _that_ name again.” Just to prove a point, Kylo lowered the tip of his lightsaber to lightly graze Vicrul’s neck. “I’d be careful, Vicrul. I killed Ren. Han Solo. Snoke’s not far behind. What’s one more?”  
Vicrul’s pensive stare broke into a grin, “Relax, Kylo. I was just messing with you. Don’t be so dense.”  
Kylo reached out and sensed no deception, only truth. He lowered his lightsaber before motioning towards their seats.   
Soon, the cantina relaxes and the band drowns out the bustling noise again.   
“Anything else, boss?” The clatter of what sounded like someone being slammed onto a table before metal pierced flesh and bone made him stop. There was a guttered cry as fear and excruciating, mounting pain bled into the Force.   
“Men have died touching me without permission,” a soft feminine voice hissed. “Consider this a lesson, _echuta_.”   
That voice. It was no more above a whisper, yet Kylo heard it. A breathless echo with each word. Dathomirian. The Nightsisters.   
_Ana_?   
He turned around at neck breaking speed, lightsaber at the ready. But suddenly, the mystery girl was gone. In her wake, she had left behind a man dressed in old, worn down, grey pilot gear whose hand was impaled to the table. Behind Kylo’s helmet, he couldn’t help but grin. If that had been Ana, well…   
“Yes. Start your search on Dathomir. Mother Talzin’s clan was rumored to have relics that contained the coordinates. I’ll send Fiver to accompany you. When you arrive on Kesh, search the system carefully and watch your backs. Something is not right there… I sense it.”

\----

Interpreting visions of the future was a dangerous game. Whether Jedi or Sith, all who explored possible timelines kept that truth in their minds. Those who didn’t, died regretting that they hadn’t.  
Snoke had learned that lesson many years ago, when he was young and the galaxy was meant to be very different. He had glimpsed a future where the princess gave birth to darkness. A boy who would become a man so brutal, so vindictive, so afraid he was willing to sacrifice anything in pursuit of the greater good. He would father the one destined to sit on the Sith throne, a perfect conduit of the Force. Yes, that boy would have been the perfect weapon Snoke could have forged and welded. One worthy of the Skywalker bloodline. He had gotten a name too, through the voices of the realm beyond: Darth Caedus.   
But alas, that would not come to fruition. He had not been as knowledgeable of the World Between Worlds then. A mystical plane within the Force that served as a collection of doors and pathways existing between time and space, linking all moments in time together. Constantly shifting and rearranging, often filled with tricky truth and potential realities. These days what struck him the most, was how many visions of the future the Force purposely omitted.   
Every standard year that passed since the battle of Endor and the princess failed to give birth to Snoke’s weapon, the more diluted those visions became. In one timeline, the man would have been a twin to a girl and had a younger brother. The brother would die, and the man would be slain by his twin. But not before he was done carrying out what Snoke intended for him to do. In the next possible timeline, the man would be the one to slain the girl. In another, the man was still slain by the girl but returned to the light, just like his grandfather, moments before his death to warn his child’s mother of the harrowing danger awaiting them. In the last timeline Snoke had seen, the man was not a twin and had no sister, only the younger brother. In those timelines too, the man played into Snoke’s plan perfectly.   
Only two factors ever remained consistent in each timeline: The younger brother never survived and the man fathered the dark enthroned figure before his death. The younger brother’s death and the fear to keep his offspring safe were the catalyst for the man’s descent to the dark side.   
Unfortunately one day, these glimpses of alternative realities vanished from existence, no longer a viable possibility. Snoke had mourned at the loss of such greatness, such strength, deeply.  
He had not foreseen Ben Solo.   
A presence so bright, it had radiated an aureate golden light. A beacon of Kylo’s enormous potential, that latent power of the Skywalker blood was impossible to miss. His birth awoke a hundred-thousand-year-old creature, imprisoned deep in the mines of Rychel by the Ones. She had seen herself in the boy, a perfect creation of both light and dark, with the strength to master both aspects of the Force. She wanted him for herself. Snoke had wanted to dispose of her and Ben Solo.  
A Force vision had shown him this boy would tamper his plans for the galaxy. Ben Solo’s descendant would sit upon a large white throne, a mix of different species bowing, looking to that child for guidance and peace. This child would unify the galaxy. Snoke could not have that. But Lady Lumiya, ever so insistent, demanded they allied themselves with the creature.  
Lumiya had shown Snoke a future the creature had shown her. A future that was unlikely, but not beyond the realm of possibility. If he could mirror Darth Caedus’s descent to darkness in the young Solo, perhaps not all hope was lost. If he played the game correctly, like a master at Dejarik, with cunning patience and calculated scheming, he could win. And Snoke knew all about patience, he had done it once before, back in the days of the Old Republic.   
While masquerading as a simple Arkanis senator to get close to the young Ben Solo had been degrading, no obstacle would stand in his way of initiating phase four of Project Rising. Not even the biggest obstacle the vision had shown him—Mara Jade Skywalker.   
While she was of no significant bloodline, she was a former Emperor’s hand and Luke Skywalker’s wife. She had dismissed the knowledge passed onto her by Sidious and joined Skywalker in rebuilding that sclerotic, self-perturbing society. That made it essential to watch her and monitor the influence she had on the boy.   
After befriending the young Ben, Snoke had preyed on his naive nature and feelings of abandonment, and on his mother’s desperate attempt to contain the darkness set out to taint her child, and Luke Skywalker’s love and affection for his wife and nephew.   
The combination of Ben Solo’s potential and the danger that lurked around him lured the princess into convincing Skywalker to start a young Jedi Knight division at his Academy. Like his grandfather and uncle, Ben Solo would have soon become a favorite instrument of the will of the Force. And once Mara Jade Skywalker began to endanger Snoke’s design, her death became essential, causing reprehensible consequences: Confusing Skywalker’s path, ensnaring the Skywalker-Solos, and ensuring the Jedi Order’s destruction.   
When the game was about to enter its critical phase, Snoke removed the children Ben Solo saw as siblings from the board. The death of the creature in the process had been a surprise, but a welcomed one. While there was no true way to kill the creature—no Force deity could ever truly be killed—she would not return during Snoke or Kylo Ren’s lifetime, or even for another hundred years or a hundred thousand years at that. Not until the Force was altered and the flow of time changed again. Now, with Ben Solo and Skywalker playing the roles Snoke had envisioned for them perfectly, the endgame he had foreseen was at hand.   
But what role Kylo Ren would continue to play in this game was less clear. The boy called himself Kylo Ren, but that was more wish fulfillment than reality. He had never escaped being Ben Solo, the _Sword of the Jedi._ Had never learned to resist the pull of the weak and pathetic light. Nor did he have the strength to excise the sentimental streak that had destroyed Darth Vader. His growing conflict and guilt over the discovery of the scavenger’s true identity had weakened him further. Where Snoke had once seen the perfect student, he was now beginning to see what Lumiya had once brought to his attention.   
She had not seen Sith potential in the boy, which had been the original goal. She had claimed he was an unstable combination of the light and dark’s weaknesses. She had been the one to suggest he should take Ren’s mantle. There, she claimed, the boy would succeed. He had the rage that matched the followers of Ren and the desperation to agree after what she had promised him. The chance to see the faces of those who haunted his dreams one more time. All Kylo had needed to do was prove himself worthy.   
But Kylo was not Caedus—and never would be. Snoke now saw him for what he was. A flawed, broken vessel that could never be filled. Kylo Ren had proven it time and time again, even failing the last test of his training during the invasion of Chandrila. It hadn’t escaped Snoke that he had spared a New Republic commander. It was a pity, so many years wasted. Despite Snoke’s efforts, Kylo Ren continued to be unable and unwilling to use his powers to redirect the course of his own destiny and now he was out of time.   
This body was becoming frail, no longer able to contain Snoke’s immense power. It wouldn’t last much longer. He would need a new vessel.   
That realization had led him here: Staring at the image of a cloaked figure engulfed in blue hue. Slim and fragile-looking, her face adorned with painted vor’shandi swirls. She had finished her report of the situation on Kesh and the status on locating Ashoka Tano and Cal Kestis—two Jedi that Lumiya had been unable to capture, but had deemed no risk to Project Rising. Snoke wasn’t taking any chances, not when his goal was already within his grasp.   
“We will concern ourselves with Tano and Kestis later,” he said abruptly, “I have an assignment for you.”  
“I’m listening,” the figure rasped.  
“Do you remember the scavenger girl I spoke to you of?”   
She paused. “The one whose awakening I sensed? Yes, I remember.”  
"Some new information has come to light that I believe will have significant value to you.”  
“Oh?” her emotions in the Force showed a feral amusement.   
“Kylo Ren has returned from his little endeavors. His first stop was Jakku, where the scavenger claims to be from. It seems the foolish girl is a lost student of Luke Skywalker’s Jedi Academy. One whose parents ‘threw her away like garbage.’ The girl’s name,” he smiled, “is _Rey_.”   
“That’s impossible!” the figure hissed, her disbelief and hatred bleeding into the Force. “She’s supposed to be dead, I felt it! Lumiya confirmed it herself!”  
“You were only a child yourself and I would not put my faith in all Lumiya has told you. She also said Ben Solo would not return after she was done with him. Yet, Kylo Ren continues to grow more unstable with each passing day.”   
“Lady Lumiya was never wrong,” the figure said angrily, “I don’t believe you truly grasp the repercussions of Mind-Walking, Supreme Leader Snoke. It is extremely tempting to stay in the realm of Beyond Shadows. I remember what Kylo Ren looked like each time he came back. Or what was left of him anyways. He became an empty shell-”  
“I am aware of the dangers of Mind-Walking, you insolent child,” his voice so sharp it stopped her protest mid sentence, “what I want to know is how this girl survived, and why she has no recollection of who she is. You will give it to me.”  
“Supreme Leader?”  
“Do you know why I chose Kylo Ren over you to take on as an apprentice?” he continued, not allowing her a chance to answer. He knew she wouldn’t anyway. He had her undivided attention now, “I was led astray by a future I had seen in a vision of a Sith worthy of the mighty Skywalker blood. I believed I could turn Kylo Ren into him, but alas Kylo continues to fight against the parts of him that remain anchored to the light. Meanwhile, you have excelled in every way Kylo Ren has failed. _You_ are no longer that scared girl whose life Lumiya spared. Where there was once fear, I now see strength. Your sentiments now replaced by antipathy. You are willing to sacrifice anything in the name of the First Order. It is time you take your rightful place by my side, my dear child. Together, we will restore peace in the galaxy and avenge our fallen comrades. Your grandmother trained you well.” He saw the faintest curve at the corner of her lips. While her face remained concealed by the hood of her cloak, he knew she was elated. The Force sang with her satisfaction. “I’ve instructed Kylo Ren to bring me the girl,” he continued, “when you arrive, persuade her to join us.”  
“And Ren?” she asked curiously.   
Snoke’s lips curled. He closed his eyes and stretched out into the Force, following its flow of threads of possible futures. Yes, he could see clearly now. Leaving Kylo Ren alive would only endanger his plans. In each one, Kylo’s descendant continued to sit on the white throne. All except for one: The one where he dies.   
And while Lumiya’s apprentice was no Cadeus either, she was extremely powerful in the Force—like her grandmother. She would rightfully assume Kylo Ren’s role in this next stage.   
Lumiya had originally been a member of the Inquisitor program. Vader had taken an interest in her, and recommended she be trained to become an Emperor’s Hand instead. Unbeknownst to Sidious, Darth Vader had taken her as an apprentice. It was not common knowledge that Lumiya had a daughter before joining the Empire, but those who were privy to such information knew Lumiya had held no sentiments in leaving her infant daughter behind in exchange for greatness. She had never gone into the details either of how she had recovered her granddaughter years later. Only requesting Snoke allowed her to keep the young girl alive as a contingency fallback should Kylo Ren fail.  
Snoke had been reluctant. He had viewed the quiet, pensive girl as a weakling. But he had eventually agreed after Lumiya had swore if she sensed any signs of failure, she would kill the girl herself. Lumiya had gone onto train the girl in the arts of assassination and had Ship—a sith meditation sphere that had once belonged to Vader and had guided Lumiya to the creature who lurked in the mines of Rychel after his death—educate the girl in the ways of the Sith.  
The sphere had deemed the girl a worthy master after her Sith sacrifice: her own grandmother, Lumiya. While that loss had been unfortunate, it had been necessary to ensure the girl’s dark path. She had assumed the headhunter position of Lumiya’s Acolytes shortly after and finished the terrifying campaign of the second Jedi purge. More bloodthirsty and brutal than the late Lady of the Sith herself.   
“Kill him,” he answered.   
“Supreme Leader,” Hux cleared his throat, nervously flattening out a nonexistent crease on his uniform shirt. Snoke hasn’t even sensed the rabbid cure enter his throne room. “You asked to speak to me?”  
“Ah, yes, Allegiant General Hux, come! You remember Lumiya’s old apprentice.”  
Hux walked over. His face remained an impassive facade. But the Force betrayed his feelings, surging with relief and deep affection.  
“Hello, old friend,” she rasped, her voice never an octave higher than a whisper, “I’ve missed you.”  
Snoke directed his attention to the Allegiant General. “She will be joining us very soon. Send her the transponder signal so she may find us when she’s ready.”  
Hux nodded, turning on his heels to head for the command center.   
“And General Hux, not a word of this to anyone— _especially_ Kylo Ren.”   
Hux grinned. “Of course, Supreme Leader.”  
“As for you,” Snoke turned back to the hooded, young woman, “initiate Phase Four.”  
He watched her slide on a reflective, silver metal mask to conceal her face. Like the late Lumiya, it’s only design was a crimson red eye in the center. An homage to Ship, who had the same symbol in the center of his golden sphere.   
“Yes, Supreme Leader,” her voice came through the vocoder, distorted to sound slightly Unearthly. The hologram blinked out.   
_As Emperor Palpatine once fell, soon falls the last Skywalker._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Sorry guys, real life has been kicking our butts lately but we’ll post chapter 10 ASAP!


	10. Finn on Mon Gazza/Rey arriving on Ahch-To

Finn peered at Poe as he carried more supplies into the _Ebon Hawk_ , eying him as he prepared the next load with BB-8. Since they first met on Jakku, he realized he often found it more and more difficult to release his sight of the pilot. A gaze that always lingered an extra second for a reason he did not know—well, he did know, but he always pushed it to the back of his mind. There were more important things to worry about during a war for freedom of the galaxy, after all.  
He came back to reality and continued loading the ship. He had been anxious since he woke up from his slumber this morning—if he could even call that sleep. Ever since he left the First Order, he’s had a recurring dream on and off that he couldn’t perceive:   
A little girl with voluminous hair, perhaps no more than six standard years, frantically running down a regal hall while looking for a place to hide. She was cradling something in her arms as if she were trying to protect it.  
 _“Don’t worry,”_ the girl whispered softly, _“I’ll never let anything happen to you.”  
_ She kept going.   
She heard footsteps ahead and stopped.   
She turned back but then heard footsteps coming from that direction.  
She slipped into a bedroom.  
Suddenly, it’s a little dark.   
Then a bright light.  
Finally… A woman’s scream.  
That’s how it always ended. No matter what, his eyes would flash open once he heard that scream. Even though it was still hard to make out what exactly happened, his dream showed him more little by little each time. Whatever happened, that woman sounded as if she were in despair, like she was losing something dear to her.  
He couldn’t help but wonder if the Force was trying to tell him something. Leia did say once that the Force works in mysterious ways—dreams included. Sometimes, they could be premonitions. Other times, it could be an event from the past; and he couldn’t help but feel this dream had already happened.  
Between the dream and the rescue mission yesterday, Finn tossed and turned as he struggled to continue sleeping. He had lost friends. Almost lost two people that he considered the closest thing to a family. And even then, he couldn’t help but also think of the fallen from the opposing side. He remembered the countless times Slip fell behind the group during training simulations—and the countless times Finn went back for him, despite being reprimanded for coming to his rescue.   
Had any stormtrooper lost a longtime comrade in that mission, growing up taking orders from people hellbent on oppressing the galaxy? Forced to put your life on the line to commit terrorism while receiving the same treatment because you’re disposable. _Just another number_.   
Slip was the closest he had to a family during his life as a stormtrooper. Then he met Poe and Rey. They looked at him like no one ever had. For the first time in his life, he felt like there was more he could offer in life. A _purpose_. In spite of such a sudden, violent death, Slip would live on in him—the life he did not get the chance to live. The life that the First Order took away from them. A reminder that even in an entity as sinister as the First Order, some of their own blood was on their hands.   
That’s why they had to win the war. Otherwise, Slip’s death would be meaningless.   
It’s the reason why he worries so much when Rey or Poe dash off, not knowing if they would return would always unsettle him. A day had already passed and, despite swearing he would confess if they made it back from Eadu, he still hasn’t told told them-  
Finn shook his head. He needed to get a grip. He hastily dropped the box of supplies into the cargo hold and exited the ship. If there was ever an opportunity, why not now? What's stopping him? He marched up to Poe and stopped right behind him, his fists clenched. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, just as Maz had told him. _Release_. He sighed. _It’s now or never._   
“Hey, Poe… Can I ask you something?” Finn finally asked, trying his best to not sound taut.  
“Yeah?” Poe simply replied without looking back as he continued to prepare the last load of supplies.  
 _Kriff, what do I say next_? Finn opened his mouth but before he could figure out a response, he spotted Leia speaking with a mysterious woman. Her pale skin and silver hair contrasted with her bright jumpsuit caught his attention immediately. Her presence was enchanting, in a way he had never felt from anyone before. “Who is that talking to Leia?”  
Poe glanced up and looked like he had seen a ghost. “No way… _Red Stepla_?! _”  
_ “Red who?”  
“Stepla. She was the Head of Sector Security of the New Republic before Borsk Fey’lya became Chief of State. He removed any personnel that were a part of Mon Mothma’s staff, which was a mistake by the way because _oh_ , she was amazing. She captured Seven-Seven Dirgeos from the Brotherhood of Wires and Bones cartel and Black Sun’s leader, Ziton Moj. I suppose she’s here reporting to Leia the intelligence report we received last night. Seems Kylo Ren’s personal starfighter was attacked by kouhuns just on the outskirts of the Mid-Rims.”  
Finn regarded him curiously, “They think he’s dead?”  
Something like sadness flashed across Poe’s face, before he smirked and laughed it off. “Perhaps.”  
“Not possible,” Finn said. “Rumor in the First Order was he jumped inside the mouth of a Zillos Beast. Legend has it, their skin is impenetrable. He somehow managed to blow up the creature from the inside. I think it’ll take a lot more to kill him than poisonous centipedes.”  
“Hmm,” Poe hummed, sounding intrigued by the rumor, before turning his attention back to Red Stepla. “Anyways. Her real name is Aley Kestis. She’s married to Joph Seastriker, J-Squadron.”   
“Kestis?” Finn studied her with a scrutinous gaze. “Why does that sound familiar?”  
“Her father, Cal Kestis, a Jedi who survived Order 66. I-” Poe glanced down before offering Finn a melancholy smirk. Finn somehow knew Poe was thinking of the Draven Crisis, and of his parents and friends he had lost. His eyes seemed to go somewhere far away whenever he did. “I haven’t heard anything of her, or her parents for that matter, since Luke Skywalker’s Jedi Order was destroyed and her daughter…” he paused, clenching his fist. “Never mind.”  
Finn looked at Poe from the side of his eye, intrigued. “What happened to her daughter?”  
“I’d rather not go there,” Poe firmly said, dismissing the topic to finish packing the supplies. His chiseled jaw remained clutched.   
Finn raised his eyebrow. Poe was relatively easy going, within the past year he had come to know the pilot, he knew now Poe was not one to hold bitterness and ill will at the expense of someone else. He couldn’t help but wonder what Stepla’s daughter had done to cause Poe such indignation. But before he could press on the matter, Stepla was gone. She raised her hands and a strange, green flame sparked up, surrounded her and disappeared with the smoke—taking her with it. _Vanishing into thin air_. Finn jumped in surprise, having never witnessed such a power before. Poe just offered him a half hearted shrug, his scowl settling into a warm smile. _This is beyond the Force_ , Finn thought to himself as he rubbed his temple.   
“Go where?” Rey asked as she approached the _Ebon Hawk_ , Chewie trailing behind _._ “Back to Jakku?” she teased, her lips sporting a mischievous grin as she placed her hands on her hips. An inside joke the three of them manage to share about Finn’s contempt on going back to Jakku last year when they all met.  
“Yeah, maybe we’ll drop you off,” Poe retorted, sporting a grin of his own, “they probably need their best scavenger back.”  
“ _Ha-ha_ ,” Rey laughed sarcastically, her grin curling into a smirk as she rolled her eyes. “You know what you are?”  
“What?”  
“You’re difficult,” she said with that mischievous grin returning.  
“Oh, I’m difficult?” Poe smirked again, his eyes bulging out of his head like the day before.  
“Really difficult. You’re a difficult man.” She punched his shoulder. “Come here,” she wrapped her arms around him. “Take care of Finn, okay? I’m counting on you.” Rey squeezed a little tighter, her facial expression exhibiting slight concern but also reassurance.  
Finn looked at them surprised, yet relieved. He was glad to see them getting along and cracking jokes.  
“Aw, you do like me after all.”  
“Oh, switch off!” Rey shoved Poe off of her and walked over to BB-8.  
Chewie roared, offering Poe to put away the last box into the cargo hold of the _Hawk_.  
“Sure, buddy. I’ll go prep the ship for takeoff.” He followed Chewie inside and headed straight for the cockpit.  
BB-8 told Rey to make sure not to upset Luke again this time in binary.  
"Don't worry, he'll warm up to me if I'm persistent enough. Just like I did with you," she chuckled, rubbing BB-8's dome head.  
“Hey, Rey,” Finn began as he approached behind her,” about earlier, with what I had to tell you-”  
“I know,” she cuts him off.  
He looked at her puzzled, raising his eyebrow at her.  
“I think you should go for it,” sounding sure of herself. “Everything will be okay.” All Finn could do was nod as she gave him her radiant smile that he had come to know, sensing the direction she was going. “Tell me all about it when we see each other again.”  
He smiled. “You bet.” He tightly squeezed his arms around her.  
“I don’t think I hugged Han and Luke as much as you guys before a journey,” Leia said admirably, entering just as Poe returned with Chewie.  
“Poe, Finn. Make a good impression on Admiral Holdo, she’s an old friend of mine. And Rey, here,” she said as she handed her a cloaked binary beacon. “When you’re ready, use that to meet us wherever we evacuate the New Republic. It’ll light your way back home.” She smiled.  
“I will,” Rey returned the sentiment.  
Leia looked at all three of them courtly. “Are you all ready?”  
They all nodded confidently.  
She smiled in approval. “Good. I’m counting on all of you,” she announced. “You may be our only hope. The survival of the Resistance, the survival of the New Republic—the survival of democracy—rests on your hands. May the Force be with you.”  
Chewie growled, proudly agreeing with Leia, and they all said their goodbyes. The _Millennium Falcon_ and _Ebon Hawk_ ascended above, flying to the horizon out of Mon Gazza’s atmosphere and splitting paths, heading to their respective destinations.

—

Upon jumping out of lightspeed, seeing the beautiful blue planet reminded Rey of that fateful day when she first arrived here—when she first met Luke Skywalker. As they made planet-fall, she spotted the island that held the very first Jedi temple. The frustration and confusion she felt as Luke casually threw his father’s lightsaber off the cliff and turned his back on Leia and the rest of the galaxy. _Why?_ She wondered. _How could he do that?  
_ Once they landed, Rey made her way to the top, climbing those same, tedious steps, until she found the grizzled Jedi Master himself. This time, he was facing her, as if he expected her arrival. That was a surprise. His expression, however, very much of disdain, was not surprising.   
R2-D2, on the other hand, was happy to see her. He swiftly rolled over to greet her with affectionate beeps. She smiled at the astromech. “It’s good to see you too, Artoo.” Rey then turned her attention to Luke and began marching toward him. Once she stopped in front of him, she realized they were standing in the same exact spot when they first met just a year ago.   
He finally spoke. “I thought I made it clear that you weren’t allowed back on the island,” he narrowed his eyes at her. She stood her ground, staring at him dead in the eye before he continued. “I already told you, I’m not going to walk out with a laser sword and face down the whole First Order by my-”  
“That’s not why I’m here,” she firmly cut him off. She must’ve shocked the old hermit as his expression changed.   
“Then why are you here?”  
She paused. “Leia suggested I-”  
“No, why are _you_ here, Rey?” He looked at her intensely, eagerly waiting for her response.  
She looked down. Rey tried to swallow her pride, still feeling resentment from their last encounter, so she took a deep breath to allow the Force to guide her thoughts. She exhaled and looked back at him. _Here goes_ .   
“There is something inside of me that has always been there… I did not know what it was, or what to do with it—but now it’s awake. I have tried dealing with it on my own, but I no longer can. I’m afraid. I need someone to show me my place in all of this, and I believe you're the only one who can help me… I need a teacher, Master Skywalker.”  
Rey swallowed. Luke just stood there… glaring at her. All she could remember now was the moment she went back to D’Qar, a year ago, she had followed him all day and when he had grown tired and unable to tolerate her persistence any longer, He had thrown the lightsaber at her. Telling her to keep it because he can’t teach her, that it’s time for the Jedi to end. That her attachments gave root to the dark side, and she’d been banished from the island. Angry, she had gone back to the _Falcon_ , and told Chewie there’s nothing left to do. R2 decided to stay behind with his old friend, having missed him for the six years he spent in low power. Now, she braced herself to face that same rejection.   
But then, Luke’s expression softened into a light smile and he placed his hand on her shoulder. “That settles it, then. Go find a hut, kid. We’ll meet in thirty minutes.” He walked past her, heading back to his quarters.  
“Wait, really?!” Rey exclaimed, her Force signature radiated with fiery excitement. “You’ll train me?”  
He stopped. “Learn to tell the truth next time,” he grinned, looking back at her over his shoulder, “‘ _Rey from nowhere_ .’ Could have saved yourself the trouble!”  
“Seriously?” she narrowed her eyes, slightly annoyed.  
He chuckled as he continued down the steps, raising three fingers. “Three lessons. That’s all you need.”  
 _Only three?_ She thought to herself. Rey felt like she needed much more than three. But she concluded that maybe it was best to not question a Jedi Master, especially Luke Skywalker.   
After Luke disappeared into his quarters with R2, Rey hurried over to one of the bricked huts out in the corner. She gingerly placed her bag on the floor and searched for a ration packet, she was absolutely famished, when she felt a strange sensation on her fingertips. As if she were tracing a line up an exquisitely smooth, soft texture. Cool to the touch. She stared curiously at her fingers, as they moved to their own accord. That’s when the hair in the back of her neck rose up, the low humming sound whirring in her left ear. She placed her hand over her mouth, closed her eyes and concentrated. _No, no, no. Not now. Not here._ _  
__Go away, Scavenger_ , she heard.  
The connection broke. Relieved, if slightly insulted, she exhaled. Genuinely surprised the bond had actually behaved itself for once. Satisfied with her growing knowledge of the Force and her powers, she suppose she did only need three lessons after all.  
“You flatter yourself too much,” came a deep, condensing voice behind her. “To truly be a Jedi, one signs on to a lifetime of learning, of honing one's skills. You never truly shake the act of being a student, even when you rise to the rank of Master. And you, scavenger, are no exception. You are not _invincible_.”  
Angrily, she whirled in the direction of his voice. Why, she wasn’t sure, she supposed it made her feel less crazy if she could at least pretend she was talking to him. She all but screamed when she saw Kylo Ren sitting there, across from her. He had ditched his ugly helmet and his cloak. His cheek bisected by an angry red scar—the wound she had branded him with in the snows of Starkiller Base. His hair was oddly perfect. As if he had actually put an effort into making his long black hair tousled. Terrified, Rey fumbled for the blaster she carried in her holster, raised it, and fired. She thought she saw Kylo flinch as the blaster spat energy in his direction, the noise startlingly loud in the confines of the stone hut.  
But he wasn’t there.  
Rey lowered the gun, her hand shaking slightly, and stared at the smoking hole she’d blown in the wall. He hadn’t even noticed her, not until she had fired on him at least.  
That angered her for some reason. The gall of that man to treat her like she was nothing. There appeared to be no sign of her mortal enemy but she knew she hadn’t dreamed it—he’d been there.  
She bolted out of the hut, looking in all directions. Nothing. Just the morning chill and the cries of porgs, diving in groups from the cliffs to bombard schools of fish below.  
And then, instantly, Kylo was there. This time, she knew he saw her, too. He lifted his hand, staring at her, and she could hear his voice.  
“You will bring Luke Skywalker to me,” he said.  
But unlike on Starkiller Base, no invisible fingers burrowed into Rey’s brain to root through her thoughts and secrets. Unlike on Takodana, her body responded to her commands, not his. They are just words, she reminded herself, he held no power over her. She smirked, and Kylo lowered his hand in surprise.  
“You’re not doing this, the effort would kill you.” He peered at her. “Can you see my surroundings?”  
He sounded concerned, his brows creased into clear worry lines. Rey could feel his anxiety spiking in the Force, he was hiding something from her. She could feel it. He was somewhere he didn’t want her to know about. It was right at the surface of his mind, she could almost reach out and touch it. She would have to, if he wasn’t so infuriating. Treating her as if she were his student he had working on a contemplating and interesting problem—and expecting her to solve it. That _annoyed_ her. He must have picked up on her expression because his anxiety quickly dissolved, but he was also somewhat disappointed. As if she had failed a test. She ignored him. “Murderous snake!” she shouted, but in return, he ignored her.  
“I can’t see yours—just you,” Kylo said, relieved, if anything, slightly curious. “So no, this is something else. And I’m the murderous snake? Were you not the one who savagely attacked me on Starkiller Base? And Eadu? It was I who was forced to defend myself from you.”  
That was when Luke emerged up the steps, blinking at the morning light. Rey turned to face the Jedi Master, panic accelerating her heartbeat. It hadn’t been thirty minutes, yet had it? Would Kylo see Luke? Would he somehow know where the last of the Jedi was? Had she done something wrong, unlocked some gate that had desperately needed to stay shut?  
When she turned back, Kylo’s expression told her instantly that while he might not have seen Luke, he had seen her reaction—and understood what it meant. “Luke?” he asked, his eyes eager and hungry, like a predator catching its prey’s scent.  
“What’s this about?” asked Luke.  
Rey’s eyes returned to the Jedi Master’s face, expecting to see anger and betrayal there, but Luke just looked puzzled—until, to her horror, he pointed past her, directly at where this strange visitation stood. She forced herself to follow his gaze, but Kylo was gone. Luke was pointing at the hole in the side of her hut. She exhaled in relief, but it was short lived. Kylo may have disappeared, but she and Luke weren’t alone. Half a dozen aliens had emerged from the mist and were milling about the huts, one of them inspecting the damaged wall in consternation.  
Rey knew immediately that these new arrivals were real—and that they were no threat to her. They had broad faces and three-toed feet, and their stout bodies were hidden beneath simple robes of beige and white. They reminded Rey of the anchorites of Jakku, who’d found its wastes ideal for a simple life of religious observation and adherence. She remembered Luke had identified them as the Lania, an aviant sentient species.  
She realized Luke was still waiting for an answer to his question—and so were the Lania. Rey’s first instinct was to tell him the truth, in hopes that he might be able to help her close off the unwanted connection before it became more dangerous. This was her chance to be free of Kylo Ren once and for all. But something told her that would be a mistake. Luke was fragile and perilous, just like their relationship. The slightest misstep, Rey sensed, would cause him to reject her again even before the first lesson he’d promised.  
No, she had to tell him something else. “I… was cleaning my blaster,” she managed. “It went off.”  
Luke didn’t look any less puzzled by that explanation, but the creatures seemed to accept it, albeit grumpily. Within moments they were removing fish from baskets, sharpening knives, and angrily yanking loose stones from the damaged wall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry we took so long to post! We'll try to be more consistent as we deal with school and work and other real life stuff.  
> Please stay tuned, we'll have Chapter 11 up very soon as well after adding the finishing touches to make up for not posting for 4 months!  
> -A&E


	11. Kylo reunites with Mirta Gev on Nar Shaddaa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: mentions of drug abuse. If this is a trigger, we suggest you stop reading towards the last paragraph. It begins with “but a luminescent”  
> CW/TW: as we said way back in the beginning, Ben is getting the full Skywalker EU treatment. Trash love life included. So if you really don’t like the idea of Ben/Kylo having any ex girlfriends prior to Rey, we would suggest you skip this chapter 😊 as we said before, there’s no love triangle. But Ben/Kylo needs to put some things to rest. He’ll get better we promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update for notes-  
> Hi guys!  
> I just wanted to say first of all, thank you for reading this story 😊 me and A really appreciate it. I wanted to include a more detailed author’s note on this chapter, since I know this chapter probably won’t be popular because of Ben Solo/Kylo Ren’s characterization. Many of the things Ben says in this chapter come from The Rise of Kylo Ren comics and the TFA novelization regarding his view on the First Order and his decision to fall to the darkside. Adam Driver did say Ben Solo was a radicalized youth who believed he was doing the right thing and this was reflected in the TFA novelization and TROKR comics. Ben Solo is also heavily based on Jacen Solo/Darth Caedus from the EU according to DLF. He followed Jacen’s path to the darkside. Believing, again according to TROKR comics, he had no choice, that the people he killed was a necessary sacrifice for the greater good, that it was his destiny to finish what Anakin had started. These were plot point that were set up by TFA that we decided to explore in this story.  
> The First Order destroying planets in their early days in Wild Space is canon. Kylo Ren participated in numerous conquest of these planets. The planet Tehar was among one of them. The entire population was wiped out. Kylo was labeled the Jedi Killer during TFA, and while the Rise of Kylo Ren shows us he didn’t destroy the temple on purpose (I was sooo thankful for that y’all don’t understand 😭🤧) he did kill Voe, a fellow Jedi. So we expanded on the Jedi Killer theme as well.  
> The drug use in this chapter, I’ma be real with you guys. That idea came from the Legacy comics. Cade Skywalker was a force user who like Ben Solo didn’t want the Skywalker legacy, let alone be a Jedi. He had an evil Sith Lord in his head, and he used deathsticks to cope with the stress of being torn between the light and the dark side plus surviving the third Jedi Purge. I didn’t think Kylo Ren using deathsticks to cope would be to far off, considering how conflicted and unstable we know Ben is.  
> Lastly, on the issue of Ben having previous love interest prior to Rey and even friends. I know this is a touchy subject from some people, but for me when I saw TFA and I heard Kylo tell Vader’s helmet “I will finish what you started grandfather” my first thought was “his girlfriend died? What happened to her?” 😂 obviously that was not the case, but since he is based on Jacen Solo, I followed the three big love interest format. Jacen Solo had Dani “the big crush”, Tenel Ka who was “the one” and when Jacen fell and became Caedus, he had Tahiri who I’m still not sure what the status of that relationship was. They cared about each other deeply since they grew up together, she was his little brother’s girlfriend (Ani Solo died 😭) and they became close after Ani’s death and their shared experience of being tortured by the Vong. In Fate of The Jedi, the nine books that came out after Legacy of the Force, Tahiri states her relationship with Caedus became physical but they weren’t in love. So I had Ben’s love life follow the same pattern. Ves as the crush, Rey as the one who he’s going to end up with, and Mirta Gev (who we repurposed from legends) is the “it’s complicated.”  
> As for his friends, Ben Solo having friends is canon. In the novel bloodlines which is from Leia’s point of view, she remembers a teenage Ben coming home dirty, laughing and smiling after playing and getting into trouble with his friends. Ben’s best friend Tai is canon. The other characters from his friend group where repurposed from legends or original characters. Ben viewing his friends as family, while not stated in canon, was something I interpreted.  
> Once again, this is a really slow Reylo burn and the later chapters will expand more on Ben’s conflict regarding the choices he’s made. Thank you so much for reading 😊 We hope you stick around. Enjoy the ride.  
> -E

“Who the hell are you talking to in our- _my_ room!” came a modulated voice behind Kylo Ren, practically making him jump out of his skin. He ignited his lightsaber, swinging it behind him as his body rotated with it, clashing with a medium length, customized beskar staff.  
He gritted his teeth. “Careful pateesa, I remember this dance very well.”  
“I am not,” the woman behind the Mandalorian helmet growled, “your _pateesa_.”   
He thought of a clever reply but the boot of his attacker made contact with his face. The sole of her foot sent him slamming against the wall, but before he could recover, a punch landed on his gut he didn’t see coming, knocking the wind out of him. He doubled over, gasping for air as his solar plexus screamed in agonizing protest from the punch. But he held his lightsaber out in front of him to ward her off. No one had jumped him like that in years.   
His eyes watered but he was able to see the scorch mark across his assailant armor, running from abdomen to chin. He must have swung his lightsaber across her chest in a split second, muscle memory. He would have apologized, the black and crimson Mandalorian Commando armor appeared to be brand new, the black paint burned away in a line that comically resembled a small child’s poorly done brushstroke, exposing the streak of bare gray metal beneath. He continued to struggle to breath, but for all different reasons when his attacker removed her helmet. Tucking it under one arm.  
“Hurts, doesn't it?” her voice was sharp and bitter now.  
“Yes, it hurts, you cretin,” he hissed. “And the… point to… all of that… was… what exactly?” Despite his determination, he was desperately failing at masking the pain he was experiencing from the blow. A grin tugged at the corner of her lips.   
“That, Ben,” she said, raising a hand to stop him from protesting, “is something I’m waiting for you to work out.”  
“I… ought to kill you… for using that… name,” he said, still looking at the lightsaber scar running across her plates. “People bow to me now. I demand respect-”  
“Go get borked, Sith spit.” She slammed her beskar staff on his unguarded arm, his lightsaber dropping and distinguishing from the drop. She grabbed it with her right hand, using his lightsaber hilt like a knuckleduster against him, landing a serious punch on the side of his face where the scar Rey had marked him with ran. He bit down on the inside of his cheek, the taste of salt in his blood a crude reminder to draw on the dark side to use this pain to deal with the onslaught. She had every right to be angry, but she wasn’t making this any easier.   
He steadied his breathing with some help from the Force, settling the disrupted nerve impulses. “If all you are going to do is attempt to murder me,” he spat, “we could have done this out on the streets… and I am not Sith spit.”  
She wrinkled her small button nose, disgust written all over her face. “Could've fooled me. And oh, no. You think I want to curse the scrumrats of this world to scavenge your dead body? The injustice of it. No one should have to deal with touching you, you echuta sleemo-”  
“You weren’t complaining when we-”  
“Careful, solus.” She brought his lightsaber underneath his chin. “I see you’ve forgotten Fett’s training. You continue to follow the appropriate rules of combat. Winning isn’t about being proper, remember? It’s finding your opponent’s weakness and exploiting it.”  
He scoffed. “You sound like your grandfather.”   
She regarded him with a curious gaze now. Looking like more trouble than she did when they were teenagers. Her face was tan, made more stark by the ink-black Kiffar tattoos, the qukuuf. Her black hair remained cut short. She had never bothered to grow it again to it’s long wavy cascade after Darth Maladi’s torture during the Draven Crisis, which had included holding her down and shaving her head, a poor attempt to get her to reveal the Jedi Academy location on Kef Bir. Maladi had used her own vanity against her—right above her high cheekbones. Full and silky, a dark red headband kept it out from her face, but she had left a couple of strands loose to sweep across her brows in a way that almost hid the scar above her right eyebrow that she had also earned during her captivity.   
But she did look far healthier than she had the last time they had seen each other. Her cheeks were no longer pale, they actually had some color in them. Her lips were full and red. Even her eyes, which had seemed for so long permanently sunken and tired before, appeared larger and more animated. A ghost of her old self, with more bitterness if anything.   
After another uncomfortable moment of silence he sighed. “Why did you come, Mirta?”   
She shrugged, dropping his lightsaber from underneath his chin and tossing it back to him. She made her way over to the cream color table, being sure to carefully step over the half spilled Corellian whiskey bottles on the floor. The warm-colored hardwood had long absorbed the spilled drink. He had taken inventory of their old apartment—Mirta’s apartment, now—when he had arrived in the harsh world of Nar Shaddaa after avoiding the kouhun, barely escaping with his life. He had sensed someone trailing him, and he had used the attack to his advantage, scrambling the tracking beacon on his ship using Electronic Manipulation, a dark side ability that allowed him to manipulate the electronic component of a computing device. He wasn’t an imbecile to lead Snoke to her.   
The apartment was small. Consisting of only a bedroom, kitchen, and fresher, decorated with dark carpets and half peeled flooring. A downgrade from his family’s home in Hosnian Prime. But for two broke teenagers on the run, the old safe house that belonged to Mirta’s late mother, Ailyn Vel, had been a palace.   
It seemed no one had taken residency in this place since the last time they had both been there, which was roughly almost two standard years ago. Everything remained the way it was left. Like a portrait. A half eaten dish of hubba chips—now rotten—on the table, two shot glasses filled to brim with whiskey, or was it wine? Kylo couldn’t remember. An unmade bed, clothes littered on the floor. She grabbed the nearest shot glass within her reach and gagged.  
“Disgusting. I forgot you used to like these,” she shuddered. “Spice brew does not age well.” She reached for the other glass, brought it up to her lips and drank. She grimaced, but then motioned in a “not bad” way and took a seat in the dark blue bantha leader chair, the liquid inside her cup swishing. “I got your message. Which I was going to ignore, again. Then I heard the reports. Got curious. I figured, best case scenario: You were dead. Then I’d end up like Ba’buir.”  
“Polishing an old ship and hassling Din Djarin?”  
“Nah,” she smiled. It was a nice smile. “Running an empire. Not to mention, filthy rich.”  
“Ah.” He winced inside. “Sorry to disappoint.”   
“Noted. Anyways, then I figured, worst case scenario: You were still alive and we’d be forced to have this unpleasant conversation that’s been long overdue. Then I would get to decide if I let you walk out of here alive. It was a win-win situation.”   
“What is there to say?” Finally able to get his bearings again, Kylo sat back on the bed. Moving a lilac silk pillow decorated with gold borders out of his way. The same spot he had been patiently waiting in before the scavenger had so rudely interrupted him. “You're the one that left.” He shrugged. “You never came back. I made my choice. What more is there to say?”   
“You do not get to put the blame on me, _hut'tuun_ ,” Mirta’s tone grew defensive, “I didn’t tell you to go and become Snoke’s pet.”  
“I’m not his pet,” Kylo growled.  
“No?” Her eyes widened and she laughed bitterly. “You honestly expect me to believe that the Ben I knew, my friend, the loser who carried a medkit everywhere like a nerd, his vision of galactic peace was building the Death Star three-point-oh and destroying three different Star systems? That is your vision of peace?”   
“Jedi always have their- listen. Let’s not forget you once stood behind that vision. As for Starkiller Base, while unfortunate, I had nothing to do with it. I protested against such brute use of power, but it was Hux’s special toy. Snoke gave him an order. It was out of my hands. There was nothing more I could have done,” he admitted.  
Mirta eyed him doubtfully. “ _Bullshit_ ,” she said at last. “Total, utter bullshit.”  
“I have no rank within the First Order, not in the military sense. What did you expect me to do? Blow the bridge? Chunk Hux down a trash compactor and call it a day?”  
“I expected you to do the right thing.” Mirta frowned, staring at her drink with pure hatred as if it had been the one to betray her. “You're the one who killed your father.”  
“How-”   
She looked at him then, before looking at the ceiling. He could sense her feelings through the Force, it reflected the disappointment in her round if slightly damped brown eyes. He didn’t know why his heart sank when he realized her thoughts towards him were one of mourning, as if he were dead, six feet underground and not sitting across from her. He knew she had too much pride to let him see her cry. Especially if they were tears for him. In all the years he had known her, he had only seen her cry once. Back when they were sixteen and she had learned her mother had been savagely murdered during an interrogation gone wrong. Leaving her an orphan and stuck with a man who had just discovered he even had a granddaughter.   
Mirta blinked her eyes dry, then drew herself up and turned her gaze back to Kylo. “Because it’s so… _you_.” She laughed bitterly again. “Willing to do anything for the greater good. Even if it’s purely idiotic and something you’d later regret down the road. I would’ve done it for you if you had asked nicely. Saved you the grief.”   
“No,” a shadow fell over Kylo’s face, “it had to be me. Snoke wanted to prove my commitment to the cause. There was one last prophecy to be fulfilled. ‘ _He will immortalize his love_.’ We take what is given, Mirta.”   
“That decision wasn’t yours to make. You are no more powerful than you were when we were younger. If anything, you are weaker. Lost. When you dragged me into this crazy mess, you promised you would finish what your grandfather started.“  
“I am,” Ben insisted, reaching out to touch her arm but instantly dropped his hand when she glared at him as if she would snap him in two, “Don’t you see? We rid the galaxy of the Jedi. Skywalker’s order got rid of the Sith. Once the First Order destroys what remains of the New Republic, Snoke will be gone. I’ll disassemble the First Order. Take on the imperial remnant on Bastion. Then there will finally be peace. A united galaxy. United under one ruler—me. There will be no more pointless deaths like Tai’s, or Meredith’s, or even your mother’s. I- _we_ won’t have to lose anyone else that we love. No more wars, no suffering. Only-”  
“But at what cost Ben?!” she cried out, rising from her seat so quickly, her desperation startled him. “Is stopping a hypothetical dream from becoming true worth sacrificing everything?”   
“They are not dreams. They are Force visions,” he answered harshly. “Meredith had them before she died, she saw her own death on Rychel but chose to ignore it because of Skywalker. He claimed that the future is in constant motion, subjective to change. That she couldn’t let her premonitions dictate the course of her life. Look at where that got her.”   
Mirta’s eyes widened in surprise.   
“I looked into the future again.”  
“You didn’t. You promised you-”  
Kylo shook his head. “I said I promised I would refrain from Flow Walking. Not that I would quit altogether.”   
She dropped back onto the couch and cradled her head. “And have your selfless, orderly choices changed anything?” she asked in a mocking tone. “What exactly did you see this time?”   
“It doesn’t matter what I saw. All you need to know is that they no longer sit on the Sith throne. Balance has been restored.”  
Mirta cocked a brow, “You crazy son a mud scuffer, you actually did it. You changed the future.”   
“Only delayed it, or perhaps maybe I did change it. After all, my path became separated from the Skywalker name the day the temple was destroyed. I forge my own destiny now.”   
She regarded him wearily, sighing. “You're insufferable.”   
“You’re the second person who’s called me that this week,” he grumbled, mentally checking his wall was still up in place to keep Rey and their bond out.   
_Rey…  
_ He chided himself silently and made a mental note to worry about what had occured later. He didn’t owe Rey an explanation, despite the sinking panic he had felt to see her sitting across from him. He had let his location linger at the top of his subconscious. Of who he was meeting. He couldn’t quite put his finger on why it bothered him so much she didn’t take the bait. But he didn’t really want her to know where he was, did he? No. He merely did it to goade her, it was fun making her angry.   
“In your message,” Mirta began slowly, only continuing once his eyes met hers, “you sure it was Isteana?”  
“Oh, I’m sure,” he reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a holodisc and activated it. It played a security footage from the boarding dock on Varnak moments before the mysterious girl had stepped into the cantina. He’d cross-referenced it with the New Republic database once he had boarded his TIE Silencer. Within hours he’d gotten a perfect match for what some would presume to be two different people. Vestara Khai and Isteana Kestis Seastriker. Who, up until now, was presumed dead along with the shuttle of Jedi younglings who had never made it to hyperspace when they were desperately attempting to flee the massacre on Kef Bir. After some digging. Kylo had reached the conclusion Vestara Khai and Isteana Kestis were the same person.   
“She was using an old Fallaneese immersion technique to mask her Force essence, along with some very creative makeup skills. She’s gotten quite adequate with it. Fooled me. She goes by Vestara Khai now. A modified version of that old nickname you gave her.”  
“Ves ka’ra. ‘Sea stars.’ What an idiot,” Mirta scoffed, looking mildly annoyed. “And you thought this was important for me to know because?”  
“Your beskar'gam. The black, for justice. And you’ve traded gold, meaning vengeance, for red, to honor a parent. I assumed you're still working on avenging your mother’s death.” Mirta shifted uncomfortably in her seat, and a look of shame flashed across her face so quickly, Kylo barely had time to analyze it before she spoke again.   
“I, uh- have let that go, actually.”   
“What? You? The granddaughter of the most notorious bounty hunter, Boba Fett, is letting her mother’s death just go?” Ben asked, his tone sounding slightly scornful.  
“An unexpected turn of events came up,” she said guiltily, “it’s the reason why I never came back.”   
“I gave you the coordinates to your grandmother’s last known whereabouts before she was presumed dead. It should have been a simple retrieval of her body and proper burial on Geonosis, right alongside your mother and Jango Fett. What could have possibly gone wrong?”  
“Sintas Vel was found alive,” she blurted. “When I got to Hidu Rezodar’s estate in Phaeda, the Phaedan’s state lawyer was more than happy to give away that criminal’s possessions. That’s when I found her, Ben. My grandmother’s body was frozen in a carbonite slab. I- I made a choice to face Fett again. Despite the voice that dung-sucking dark side slut, Miladi, placed in my head commanding me to kill him the next time I saw him. He deserved to know.”  
Kylo Ren fell silent, the stung of what she had said weighed down on him. That meant… Sintas Vel had been frozen in carbonite for more than twenty years. The miracle of her revival, it was almost unheard of. He suppressed the thought that it should have been Mara Jade Skywalker instead. He supposed that Sintas Vel's survival was correlated to her being Kiffar. They were different, Ben knew that. The ability to detect past events from inanimate objects was proof of that. Her Kiffar brain chemistry must have offered her some protection from the worst of the carbonite trauma. Just as it had offered Mirta some protection from the worst of the embrace of pain.   
“Oh,” he said eventually. “You are very… lucky. Many would give anything for a second chance like that,” his tone sounding softer now.  
It was her this time who cringed, perhaps realizing the insensitivity of her revelation. “She was blind for a while, her memory was really messed up too. You should know. Your father went through it.”  
“Leia Organa would talk about how bad he was. So yes, I do.”  
“Ba’buir remembers too, funnily enough. Right up until your father shoved him down the sarlacc pit.”  
Kylo smirked, hands spread.  
“Sintas thought I was Mama, She could only remember things from the time she was revived. I didn’t know how to tell her the truth. Ba’buir wouldn’t stop hovering at first. Afraid or concerned for her, or maybe for me, I’ll never know. But when she started asking questions, he began avoiding her by taking on random jobs. I was the one left to tend to her. So I decided someone needed to help her. Restore her sight, give her a chance to start again and not be dependent on Ba’buir, or anyone really. Then I remembered you told me Grogu could use the… ‘Force’ to heal. So I headed to Mandalore.”   
“How is Grogu?” Kylo interjected. Feeling a sharp pain in his chest. Suddenly, he was six years old again. Still Ben. Hiding underneath a hologame table, regretting every choice he had made that had led him to stowing away aboard the Falcon. When Han Solo had found him, he had grabbed Ben by the back of the shirt and practically dragged him down the boarding ramp. Grumbling about Ben being an ungrateful offspring who couldn’t stop trying to get himself killed and why did people even have kids, but the big smirk on Han Solo’s face told Ben otherwise. Han had deposited him aboard another ship and told Ben he’d be safer there, and “for the love of all things that is your mother, she’s going to kill us.”   
Ben hadn’t known at the time, or had known but didn’t truly understand, that a war was plaguing the galaxy. The New Republic-Imperial Remnant War. It had been less than a year since Thrawn's Campaign had been dealt with. All Ben knew was he was fed up of being constantly deposited at the Thul’s home alongside C-3PO and Nana, the Thul’s nanny droid. Tired of his parents always rushing off to another battle, another crisis. He had gone months without seeing them.   
So in return, six year old Ben, in the middle of a battlefield, had been very frightened the first time he heard a missile being launched. The way the Force quivered and cried out with so much death that surrounded him. So he had hid. Only to be discovered by what looked like a little green guy that resembled the old holos his uncle Luke had shown him of Master Yoda and a girl with long raven black hair wearing a tiny version of the flight suit every Mandalorian had, with scaled-down but loose fitting plates that looked a couple of sizes too big, and a hold-out blaster hanging from the belt that looked full-size on her.  
 _  
“Su’cuy, burc’ya” she said, before turning her attention downwards to the little guy, “Is this him Grogu?”  
_ _The tiny green creature nodded, cooing at Ben. Reaching out a tiny hand.  
_ _“Who are you?” Ben demanded.  
_ _“My name is Mirta. I’m training and I’m six. This is Grogu. Mand’alor’s son. I’m his bodyguard.” She motioned her head towards Grogu before unholstering her blaster like a professional. Checking the safety catch, and holding it with the muzzle pointing safely away from Ben. “My papa is Mand’alor’s second in command. He gave this to me.” She clipped the blaster back in it’s holster. “Who are you?”  
_ _“You? A bodyguard?” Ben laughed. “You're so small. You can’t defend us.”  
_ _The creature, Grogu, inched closer to him.  
_ _“_ _Ne shab'rud'ni._ _I caught him didn’t I?” She motioned to her left. Ben peered over from his hiding spot and was startled to see a pair of shiny imperial boots lying next to a monitor screen. There was a body barely attached to it.  
_ _“Ion cannon,” she shrugged before nudging Ben with her foot and taking a seat next to him. She pulled out a bag from her belt that contained Gamorrean snack crackers and waved the bag in front of Ben, then tossed one to Grogu, who squealed in delight.  
_ _“J_ _atnese be te jatnese_ _!” she exclaimed, gleefully taking a bite before she realized Ben was judging her. Hard. “_ _Ori'haat,_ _Mirsh'kyramud._ _They don’t taste too bad.” Her expression sombered. “It’s going to be a while before they come back. Eat.”  
_ _Ben regarded her wearily but reached into the bag and took a bite. The taste of stale and salt combining together in his mouth, causing him to cough. It felt like thorns going down his throat. Self-consciousness stopped him from blurting that out, not when Mirta and Grogu were both staring at him eagerly and triumphantly.  
_ _Instead he said, “I’m Ben. I’m, uh, also six. I stowed away on a ship.” He reached for another cracker and took a bite. Rattling his brain for the right words to say from the little Mando’a he knew without grimacing, “Vor’e.”_

 _  
_Ben would see Grogu in a couple of years once he began training at the Jedi Academy. Grogu had healed Ben from the emotional mental scars left by the hold Snoke had on him when he was ten. But ten years would pass before he and Mirta cross paths again after that fateful day. Both in the company of their best friends, all coming to a silent agreement after a brutal battle on Arkanis that they all worked better together than alone. Two Jedi, a Mandalorian, and a Nightsister. No one had ever seen that coming.  
“He’s safe. For now,” Mirta admitted. “Din- Mand’alor, keeps him close by at all times. He’s chosen not to get involved in this war for the child’s safety… Ben, you need to know that the security team that intercepted us on Tehar recognized me. Mand’alor knows who you are. When I went back, he called me a _hut'tuun_ , yet he forgave me. Said I was too much like papa.”  
Ben scoffed. “Hypocrite. He was once a _hut'tuun_ himself. He turned Grogu in for beskar.”  
“He went back for him.” She glared at him. “Perhaps that’s why he forgave me. He allowed Grogu to heal my grandmother, then me. Mand’alor told me to tell you thank you. He has a sneaking suspicion you must have something to do with the First Order ignoring Mandalore. And Grogu.”  
“You’re welcome.”   
She nodded, “Not sure what Ba’buir is going to do about Sintas though. When I left, he was still avoiding her like the Candorian Plague. He’s given her access to all his credit accounts though, half of his properties too. She won’t have to bounty hunt ever again.”  
“Mirta. This is all very touching, Fett has a heart of gold, who would have known? But what does this have to do with you not avenging Ailyn?”  
“Sintas told me why Ba’buir left her and Mama.”   
“And?”  
“Do you remember that day? When we went to Tatooine to find your father?”  
Yes. Kylo remembered. Boba Fett and those associated with him had been hunted down. Fett had lured one of his assailants into a burrow, who he killed and swapped clothes with. Activating the jetpack so the corpse would be shot at multiple times, faking his death. He then went to a cantina in Atzerri, dressed in Clone War stormtrooper attire, to drag Han Solo out. The cantina was blown up by a low orbit warship but Fett saved Han from the explosion. Afterwards, he had sedated and dunked Han in a bacta tank. When Han had regained consciousness, Fett explained the siutation. His ex-wife was looking for him and knowing Han had crossed paths with her from time to time, Fett needed him to figure out who wanted him dead. He sent Han to Tatooine, where Sintas Vel kept a safe house. While those events had been taking place, Ben had been fighting alongside his friends on Arkanis. Attempting to protect the vault that held tsils, a breed of crystals capable of creating Force storms.   
When Leia had broken the news to him, Skywalker had forbidden Ben from searching for his father. Claiming it was a trap. Leia had reassured him Han would find his way back. Ben, never one to listen to orders, boarded Mirta’s ship, _She’s a Chancer_ , alongside Tai and Ves. Mirta had claimed a client had notified her of Han Solo’s whereabouts, her story growing more diluted from there as she attempted to cover up her blood ties. Ben had made the fatal error of snooping. Finding a hologram of Fett, Sintas and Ailyn Vel. He had mistaken Mirta for Ailyn, believing her to be Fett’s daughter.   
“You mean the day when Ves almost killed me for finding your family holo? Yes. I remember.”   
She bit her lip. “I meant afterwards. That man. The one who was trying to kill me for being Fett’s granddaughter?”   
Purton, the governor of Concord Dawn, had been the one to authorize the deaths of Fett and those associated with him. He was a Centrist and, unbeknown to the New Republic, a benefactor of the First Order. Mirta’s mother Ailyn Vel, who had been masquerading as Sintas Vel to draw out Fett, had been captured on the planet BlackFel where she was interrogated and later killed. When he had located Mirta, Purton launched an attack on Tatooine. Asserting this was revenge for his son’s death.   
Kylo nodded, “Yes. Fett killed his son.”  
“Yes. Well, turns out he had a legitimate reason.”   
Kylo raised a brow at her, waiting.  
“Give me a minute. I need to work out how I’m going to explain this to you.” She sighed, placing her head in her hands. “My grandfather was exiled for killing the man who tried to kill Sintas and Mama… his superior officer.”   
“Superior officer? Bona nai kachu. Fett’s not a military man. Never has been.”  
“When he married Sintas, he tried to have a normal life. For Mama’s sake. Ba’buir gave up bounty hunting and became a journeyman protector. Settling on Concord Dawn. Somewhere around that time Lenovar, his superior officer—someone he considered a mentor and a friend—tried to make a move on Sintas. He almost… Um, never mind. She shot him down. Beat the crap out of him too. So Lenovar tried to have Sintas and Mama killed as punishment. When Fett found out, he killed him. Never told a soul why he did it either. Just accepted his punishment and left.”  
“Your mother didn’t know any of this?” he asked incredulously.  
Mirta shook her head. “My grandmother never told her. Never mentioned Ba’buir to Mama really. All Sintas wanted was to start over. Move on. Forget him. She never wanted to see him again and Ba’buir respected that. Even if it meant staying away from my Mama. But Sintas never meant for Mama to hate him.”  
“Real mature, most folks get a lawyer for that.”   
“Ben, she was a nineteen-year-old whose marriage had just blown up in her face. She was stuck with a two year old to raise by herself. Do you remember when we were nineteen? We were a mess. Can you imagine having to keep someone else alive while trying to survive?” She looked away again, “My grandmother figures Mama must have filled in the gaps too much. Made Ba’buir out to be some callous and frigid person who left them.”   
Ben thought about kissing her on her forehead. There had been a time when the gesture would have been welcomed, but no longer. He could only study her countenance, feeling helpless in being unable to reach out and comfort her. He could feel her misery in the Force. It rolled and came in waves, sometimes mixed with the occasional self-hatred. For a moment he considered using a little careful mind influence right then just to stop Mirta from being so brokenhearted and guilt-ridden. But given Mirta's strength of will, Kylo was sure it would bounce right off her. He didn't even try. He would only insult her once she noticed what he had tried to do.   
“All I can remember is my Mama now. She built her whole life around hating Fett and making him pay, from the work she did to the man she married. And everything she taught me. All I can think of now is what if I’d killed him?”   
“But you didn’t.”   
“I nearly did. What if you hadn't diverted my blaster back on Tatooine? I would have shot him and he’d be dead now.” She shook her head, “I'm Fett's granddaughter in every sense. I grew up on hatred.”  
“What-ifs can be corrosive,” Ben said. "You should...”  
“It's not about me, Ben. It's about you. How do you think it feels when you find out that none of the events happened the way you thought, or even happened at all? But you were prepared to kill your own flesh and blood on the strength of it? You should know better. You killed Han.”  
“Your point?” He gritted out.   
“You want more of your family’s blood on your hands?”   
“Ves isn’t my flesh and blood.”  
“Aliit ori'shya tal'din,” Mirta muttered. “Family is more than bloodline. We only had each other you know. You, me, Ves, and Tai. I know Meredith’s family and the Master Skywalker’s practically raised you. They were around more than your birth parents were. But us… Look, the Draven Crisis was… horrible. But it brought us closer. We grew up together, took care of one another. Our real relatives could treat us worse than chakaaryc strangers.”   
“You treated me better? You said getting attached to me would be the equivalent of making a pet of nerfs and Nuna. That it would be really upsetting when you had to slaughter me.”   
“You carried a medkit and did calligraphy for fun. You made it too easy to pick on you. Besides, you're a Solo.” She waved her hand dismissively. “It’s a Fett thing.”   
What she had said was incongruously like Fett too. Family, not bloodline, but the living fabric of being a family meant a lot to Mandalorians, Fett included. Maybe that was the root of Mirta's anguish.  
“Mirta, Ves lied to us. She knew where Lumiya and the One Sith were hiding. She made her choice. Had she told the Jedi Council the truth when it mattered, your mother wouldn’t be dead.”  
“It was a Sith that killed Mama. Not Ves. I will forever be grateful that you killed Darth Miladi. But even if Ves had told the truth, that man would have still had my Mama killed. Sith or no Sith. After what Ba’buir-” she caught herself, “sorry, I mean Sintas. Ba’buir is the same word for grandmother and grandfather in Mando’a. But after what she told me, it got me thinking.”  
“Are you saying I should forgive Ves? Is that what this is all about? If you won’t help, I’ll finish this myself.”   
“No, I think there are things you can't forgive. But executing someone with no justification apart from revenge is a step beyond, doesn’t make you any better than Lumiya or the One Sith. Really think about it... if killing Ves is worth crossing that line… just remember Han and… me.”  
There was nothing like listening to someone you were once close with, someone who had wanted to kill their granddad and best friend, to make you look at the lightsaber in your own hand and ask if you could really use it again to kill someone else in your family. Bloodline-related or not. This time with no justification for an unfortunate but necessary sacrifice. Not even self-defense. Killing Ves was not a necessity for order, nor did the balance of the galaxy depend on her death. His only reason for wanting her dead was fueled by pure hatred and a thirst for revenge.  
Kylo felt as if he had been thrown up against the choices and consequences of his actions in a way he never had experienced in the polite Jedi family he was raised in or the restrained, often misguided knowledge of Snoke. Mirta was also a lot clearer about what it meant to rush headlong to disaster. Because of the mirror held up to her by Kylo long ago when he had found her working as a mercenary for the Hutts. Everyone needed to see themselves as others saw them. She was merely returning the favor.   
“No disrespect to your granddad,” Kylo said, "but like Ves, he wasn't totally blameless, was he? I can imagine how much damage it does to a marriage when something that awful happens. But other folks handle it differently. He could have, too. He could have stayed in touch, at least.”  
“When you've got the blaster in your hand and his back lined up in your cross-wires, it doesn't feel like that. And things happened to him to make him that way. Maybe they happened to Ves too. She had it better than any of us I’ll admit. Aley and Joph were good people who got stuck with a bad kid. But you know how it weighed down on her when she learned she was a Shadow Killer. The last of Talzin’s clan. Not a Jedi, but not truly a Nightsister either. Something new. She wasn’t a monster like Lumiya or Maladi. Just a stupid kid trying to make her way in a cruel galaxy.”   
Ben stared at her dubiously. Mirta had grown into the kind of woman who didn’t worry about things like this. She was hard; pure and simple, an unsentimental and unforgiving woman. But in all that struggle to survive, and all the violence she had meted out, there remained the young girl she had once been. One who could still challenge the core of her upbringing. It was an extraordinary strength that to this day left him in awe.  
“I can’t believe your pleading for her,” Kylo said. “If she walked in here now, wouldn’t you shoot her dead for what she did?”  
“Yes, I would." Mirta leaned back against the chair, arms folded. Drink still in hand. “But not to avenge Mama, nor anybody that died that day on Rychel. Not even Mere. But because it’s the right thing for me to shoot her. Do whatever I can to drag her ass back to Aley and have her locked up for treason or whatever. Maybe let fate take its course and leave someone else to.... kill her.”  
Kylo Ren had a sudden image of Han Solo in his mind as his father had once been. Scruffy, with that shit-eating grin his mother had loved so much plastered on his face, walking hand in hand with a toddler Ben. Promising that despite the whole galaxy being against them, they would make it through okay. Kylo could almost see it clearly… But the image of a crimson red blade penetrating through Han Solo’s abdomen shattered the illusion. It made him unsteady for a moment.   
“Think about what it'll do to you,” Mirta’s voice softened. “You look like shit. When’s the last time you got any sleep? You're not using again are you?”  
“If you won’t do it, I could always get Bazine Netal.”  
“You do that.” Mirta turned her back to him, reaching for her belt pouch to place the holodisc. Her black pauldron was decorated with gold sigils and glyphs that he'd seen on the Vevut clan's armor during the Draven Crisis.   
That was odd. “Your family signet,” he began, “it's different. That’s not your father’s. Or even Fett’s.”   
Mirta suddenly looked embarrassed, the words catching at her throat. She sounded as if she were straining out a confession a word at a time.   
“I’m uh- engaged.”   
Oh. “Congratulations.”   
“Can you honestly tell me that with a straight face?”  
He didn’t bother.   
She tilted her head back and took the shot with ease, peering at him over her long lashes. “I can see through your facade, Ben. It’s not as unreadable as you like to think.”  
He glared at her, keeping his face stoic, though the hurt was obvious in his eyes and clenched jaw. “Let’s not diverge into insults here. Next, you’ll tell me my feelings betray me.”  
“Oh but they do.” She snorted, so gently that Ben almost didn’t hear her. “They stab you in the back before giving you a swift kick in the butt. It’s in your eyes.”  
He flashed her a scowl, but his face softened when he realized she was merely just teasing him.   
“How did you meet?”   
She looked away again, this time Kylo knew he was not mistaken when he saw shame in her eyes. “When I took Sintas to Mandalore, Mand'alor said we could lodge with the Vevut’s. Our Buir’s were good friends until papa died. I forgot they even had a son… Don’t give me that look. It wasn’t like that at first. We were just friends. But he was there for me when Sintas got her memories back. He’s been helping me take care of her ever since. He’s kind, gentle, a strong warrior. He knows what I’ve done, the horrible history of my family, yet he loves me. He makes me happy… and yes he knows I came here to talk to you. He trusts me.”   
Mirta didn't have a lot of happiness genes, that had long been obvious, but she managed a radiant smile. One free of mirth and bitterness. Truly geniune. She was glowing. It looked like hope. “Besides I won’t be needing this safe house anymore. Too many memories, you understand. It’s all yours. A back up, should you decide to finally leave the First Order. There’s some money left in our old account and Lando’s personal com is hidden somewhere in Mama’s old file. Just have to know where to look.”  
“Are you naive enough to believe the Resistance will take me back with open arms? At best, I’m looking at a life sentence in exile for the crimes I've committed. If not, execution. Leia Organa doesn’t have the political leverage anymore to help either. You might as well do me the favor and kill me now.”   
“You are the Sword of the Jedi, Ben. That counts for something. Don’t your kind have their own court system?”   
“The Jedi are gone, Mirta. We and the Acolytes made sure of that.” Kylo looked away, disgusted. “Even their court wouldn’t exempt me.”   
“Then tell the truth.”  
“I don’t even know what the truth is,” he growled.   
“If you need me to,” she said quietly, “I’ll testify on your behalf.”  
“So they can execute you alongside me? The New Republic isn’t Mandalore. They don’t share the same sentiment on the Jedi needing to end.”   
She scoffed. “What Ben? If we die at the same time does it still scare you?”  
“Don’t be depressing.”   
“Sorry. Mando humor. But I was in the embrace of pain for a month, look at what it did to me. I was convinced it was Ba’buir’s fault I was captured, that he and Ves killed Mama. I wanted to kill them. You were held in that thing for a year. I don’t believe anyone can fully hold you accountable for what you’ve done after knowing that.”   
“Every single step I have taken until now has been my own choice.”  
“You were tortured, Ben. Manipulated and coerced. Snoke forced you.”  
“Shaped, perhaps. But not Forced. Never. Don’t take my independence from me. I am not weak.”  
“Sheesta, Ben! Can't you see I’m trying to help you? I know I’m not Tai. Honestly, the whole woe is me thing you got going on confuses me half of the time. But I’m trying. My worst fear is you’ll come to your senses when it’s too late. When even I won’t be able to help you anymore. You’ll be alone. Then the Resistance will kill you and I’ll have to bury another friend.”   
“I don’t want a grave,” he said suddenly. “What for? Once the galaxy knows the truth, of what became of Ben Solo, it’ll be desecrated and vandalized. No. Let them shoot my body out an airlock. You mourn me in your memory, Mirta. Let me go in peace.”  
“That’s not the point, you di'kut.”  
Then it hit him. _She doesn’t want me to die.  
_ Her undeserving kindness left Kylo taken aback. That dualistic Mandalorian mindset—extreme violence, profound love—always threw him. “I'll never forget what you're trying to do for me,” he said at last.  
She looked abashed, standing up to collect her bearings. “Funny how I've only really gotten to grips with my own messy family since I became friends with a shabla Jedi.”  
“I've learned more than I ever thought I would from you, and I don't mean weapon tactics, either.”  
She managed yet another genuine smile and clasped Kylo’s arm, “I’ll let you live, Ben. Because I know you are still in there somewhere. Let’s just never be in opposite armies. But if we are, we’ll make sure to avoid each other. Deal?”  
“Deal,” said Ben.  
Mirta let out a long breath and reached for her helmet. It was a cue that she'd had enough of baring her soul. Kylo counted it as a plus that she'd even bothered to let him explain himself before making her choice to let him live. Her generosity and frank terms had left him dumbfounded. She clamped her hand on the helmet, before whirling around to touch Kylo’s cheek, brushing a gentle trail with her thumb where his scar ran.  
“Why haven’t you healed this?” she murmured “I know you can.”  
“I underestimated an opponent and paid the price. It’s a daily reminder of my weakness.”   
“So it is true.” She roguishly grinned. “The mighty Kylo Ren was bested by a little girl who had never wielded a lightsaber before. You're going soft on all your enemies now? Or was she really pretty?”  
“She is not my enemy.”  
“Then why would she attack you?”  
“She… does not know she is not my enemy.”   
She looked into his eyes, scrutinizing the sincerity of his words. Her lips followed her touch, pressing a kiss on his scar. Just as he had done what seemed centuries ago. Kissing that scar she hated so much over her eyebrow to let her know he found it beautiful, found her, all of her, beautiful. When she pulled away, his eyes roamed over her face. Looking for any subtle clues as to why she had offered him one last gift he knew he was unworthy of. She wouldn’t look at him.   
“That’s what I loved about you, you know.” She took in a deep breath before looking into his eyes again. “Your compassion. I remember the way you looked at the twin suns on Tatooine that day. It took me awhile to realize that’s how you viewed life too. Something that was precious, meant to be cherished. You always looked ahead. Never stayed in the moment. Always rushing into danger. You saved so many, But somehow… not yourself.”   
“We take what is given.”   
“It could have been you, you know. Had you said the words.” She sighed. “Take care of yourself, Ben.”   
She offered him a curd military nod. Tucking her helmet underneath her arm. She picked up her beskar staff as she headed towards the door.   
“Wait.”   
“Yes?”  
“You… loved me? Why didn’t you ever say anything?"  
“It wouldn’t have made a difference.” She turned around to offer him a melancholy smile. “I loved you, but I wasn’t in love with you. Just like you weren’t in love with me.”  
“Mirta-“  
“Don’t insult my intelligence by pretending you didn’t know.” She continued, “One minute I had a family, the next I’m an orphan watching Kef Bir burn on the HoloNet. I’ve become many things since then. Dar'manda, assassin, Jedi hunter, depressed. You were there to catch me. I think it was the same for you. We were both so lonely… I would have gone anywhere with you. I didn’t care if I lost everything. I had nothing left to lose.”  
He knew that to be true. Mirta had tried embracing Fett as her grandfather, but he had made it difficult for her to. She longed to love him but was battered by constant disappointment. Fett had tried hard to get it right, but was bewildered at his failure. Then there was Fennec Shand, the assassin and mercenary who Fett had discovered left for dead on the sand dunes of Tatooine. He had saved her life using cybernetics and in return she worked for him. Fett treated Fennec like a daughter, a notion that only added fuel to Mirta’s resentment. Add on Ves’s betrayal and Tai's death, even her beloved yacht, _She’s a Chancer_ , had been destroyed during the war. Mirta had retaliated by isolating herself from everyone who had ever known her, except from Kylo.  
“I was planning on coming back, Ben. Until I heard what you were helping the First Order. The brutal conquerors in wild space. Decimating entire populations. I had to let you go. Save myself. I had to move on with my life. Even if it hurt like hell.” She slid her helmet on, securing it in place. She sighed. “And hold off on contacting Bazine. I’ll deal with Ves. But don’t think for a moment I’m doing this for _you_. Black really isn’t my color.”   
He watched her go, something he had always found hard. But knowing she wasn’t coming back this time made it even harder.  
“Shoot straight and run fast Mirta.”  
There was a brief pause. He could feel her grief radiating off her again, suffocating him. He wondered if she was finally allowing herself to cry underneath her helmet.   
“Funny enough, there’s a little boy on Mandalore named Venku. His nickname is Kad'ika—Little Saber. He's a sword, too, Ben, but the sword of the Mandalorians. Long has the sword been a symbol of justice in many cultures. But real justice is blind, and personal feelings don't matter. Yet to the Jettise… I guess what I’m trying to say is. Remember who you are, Jetii'kad.”   
The door hissed shut after she left. Leaving Kylo alone to collect his thoughts. He had been naive enough to believe Mirta would be capable of removing herself from his life in a tidy, anesthetized way. Stupid to think he could avoid the pain.  
He suddenly understood why Fett was avoiding Sintas. Like granddaughter, like grandmother, he supposed. The Vel women had a lasting effect on the men they loved.  
Not for the first time within a span of days, he felt like an idiot again. Even, dare he say it, a scoundrel. No better than his father. Because the truth was, he had known Mirta had loved him. Or at the very least, had his suspicions. But it was easier to pretend he didn’t see it. Easier to not put a label on what they were despite living with her. He had tried keeping her out, afraid of what might happen. Because she had loved him when it seemed the whole galaxy was against him. Loved him even when he couldn’t stand himself, even when he had tried to drive her away. She had loved him when it hurt to love him. He had been afraid to hurt her—though he knew he had.  
Now that she was gone, he couldn’t pretend anymore, he couldn’t lie. Not anymore, not to himself. She had been the one constant star in his galaxy. The way Kylo found his way back to who Ben had been when he got lost. All the best of him laid in her. The loss of it was devastating. Nevertheless, he had been prepared for that. For the foreign, invasive emotions he only allowed himself to feel when he was alone. But he hadn’t been ready to look into her eyes again, those deep brown eyes that reminded him of mysterious secrets, dark to cover her intent, permanently assessing the risk of something bad happening and whether she could shoot it or sell it. But those eyes had once both been everything he thought he'd ever wanted and the deserved judgment on what he hadn't given her.  
The last five years collapsed in on themselves leaving Ben nineteen again; besotted for a brief while, until now. An older, numbed young man who was left wondering why the only thing he had managed was to let her go and marry someone else. Not that he wanted to marry her, Mirta had been right in that sense. Ben nor Kylo had ever been in love with her. But he had loved her.  
One way or another, he always managed to kill someone that loved him. At least this time, there was no dead body left in his wake. But love was a shackle, and Ben Solo had been a will-weak, fearful, undisciplined boy. Kylo was willing to do what was necessary for a united galaxy. Even if it meant being filled with hate, walking a path where he would lose everything. What good was being a Jedi, a _Skywalker,_ when the galaxy continued to turn on them? He had succeeded where Anakin Skywalker had failed.

_She who is born from darkness will give birth to darkness. Her child will be drawn from peace into conflict. He will know brotherhood. He will choose how he will be loved. He will win and break his chains. He will shed his skin and choose a new skin. He will rename himself. He will ruin those who deny justice. He will choose the fate of the weak. He will strengthen himself through pain. He will strengthen himself through sacrifice. He will immortalize his love. His life will bring balance between dark and light._

He so desperately wished Mirta understood that simple truth. Lumiya or no Lumiya, Snoke or no Snoke, he would have become this on his own. He stood up to leave, contemplating taking a swig of his spicebrew when he felt the clawing sensation at the back of his mind. Desperate to get in. The top of his skull felt like it was being pressed down. He dropped to his knees, his vision blurring in his right eye. He stopped his fall by putting his hands out in front of him, only for the floor to feel as if glass had been shattered on it. Kylo’s hands trembled to their own accord. Snoke. Getting suspicious of where Kylo had disappeared off to again. Defiantly, because he was stupid or had a death wish, Kylo slammed down his mental shields again. Chuckling in relief at the silence. Once his vision had returned and his legs no longer felt like durasteel, he made an effort to stand up again.  
But a luminescent stick underneath the bed caught his eye. He reached for it, pulling out a small clear case filled with four small tubes of crimson and amber ixetal cilona fluid. Out of impulse, he opened it. Reaching for the crimson stick first, a sinister idea crossed his mind. It had been so long… a standard week. He’d promised himself last time would be the last.   
But one possibly wouldn’t hurt. Or maybe three. No one would know. He looked around for good measure, suspicious of Mirta’s sixth sense, expecting her to come waltzing through the door to beat him up again, this time for using and not for breaking her heart. But she was long gone.   
He smiled, _his_ first genuine smile since his apprenticeship with Snoke had begun.   
He knew what he had to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mirta Gev's apartment is on a city planet similar to Coruscant called Nar Shaddaa, nicknamed the "Smuggler's Moon," the notorious moon of the planet Nal Hutta, homeworld of the Hutt species. It was home to a large criminal underworld dominated by bounty hunters and Hutt crime lords.
> 
> Pateesa- huttese for friend or sweetheart. In this case, Ben is using it as friend.
> 
> Sith spit- an insult
> 
> Echuta- explicit insults
> 
> Sleemo- huttese
> 
> Sheesta - keshirian for shit
> 
> Mando’a  
> hut'tuun- a coward, the worst insult to a mandalorian  
> Ne shab'rud'ni- Don’t mess with me
> 
> Jatnese be te jatnese - the best of the best  
> Ori'haat Mirsh'kyramud - it’s the truth I swear boring person
> 
> Vor’e- thank you  
> Ba’buir- grandfather and grandmother  
> Bona nai kachu- You're in trouble now  
> di'kut - idiot  
> Dar'manda- state of being "not Mandalorian"; not an outsider, but a Mandalorian who has lost their way, their heritage, Identity and soul.  
> Characters repurposed from the EU:  
> Mirta Gev (who is Ben’s age in our version) Ailyn Vel, and Sintas Vel. I lost the html converter we where using but you can look up these ladies wikis if you want to know more about Fett’s family in legends :)
> 
> The dialogue between Ben and Mirta on killing Ves was heavily influenced by the conversation Jaina Solo and Mirta Gev had regarding Jaina killing Jacen in “Legacy of the Force: Revelations”
> 
> The prophecy Kylo recites is based on canon and on the prophecy on Jacen Solo’s fall to Darth Caedus in “Legacy of The Force:Betrayal”
> 
> When Kylo tells Mirta he doesn’t want a grave because it will be desecrated and vandalized, it was based off what the Darkling told Alina in Ruin and Rising from the Shadow and Bone trilogy.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading  
> 😊  
> we’ll try to update again this month
> 
> -E and A


	12. Finn, Poe, and BB-8 arrive on Coruscant

Poe eased the _Ebon Hawk_ through the vast darkness, dropping out of hyperspace. That’s how it would have looked at least to those in the arrival zone, if there were any witnesses. Deep in the narrow corridor that ran off to the side of the cargo hold, endeding with a closet-sized room that consisted of only a bench and short table, equipped with a holoprojector was where Finn had been standing outside of for the past ten minutes, trying to center himself.   
He had gone into the room with the intention to send Rey a transmission. An update on the numerous raucous saigok games he and Poe had played on the main hold, to ask if she knew Poe was capable of making a decent Xizor salad. And to laugh about Poe’s annoying Perre Needmo impressions, announcing each hour that passed before they made planetfall. He most definitely should have avoided surfing the HoloNet, where it seemed a new catastrophe was rocking the galaxy by the hour.   
In the wake of Hosnian Prime destruction, the First Order’s ominent power stretched its harsh tendrils on the Core worlds, bringing it to its knees, less civilized worlds had seen the chaos as an opportunity to erupt into violence. Spreading like wildfire, Finn had watched recording after recording of criminal syndicate induced riots on Nal Hutta and Rhommamool, Qaras and Klatooine slaves fighting against their oppressors, protesting for freedom after bearing the weight of two thousands years worth of slavery. He’d seen the murders of four Bothan high-profiled politicians who had managed to escape when their planet, Bothwui, had been invaded.   
It was the last holo recording though, that a child who could have been no more than twelve years old in human years had uploaded that had struck Finn. It showcased a group of adolescents: a Sullastan, Barbel, a human male, and Bothan bearing the tell mark of Crimson Dawn attacking an elderly Mon Calamari gentleman. A doctor who worked deep in the lower level of Coruscant, providing free healthcare to the citizens Coruscant was pressed on forgetting according to Javis Tyrr Presents. What had caused Finn to freeze the holo was the look the young Barbel had when he turned his eyes to face the camera. A reptilian sentient with gray and dark green markings on his molted skin and piercing bleak black eyes that seemed devoid of life. Filled with wholly unadulterated loathing. Finn had turned off the holoprojector afterwards, drowning out whatever else that slimy reporter Javis Tyrr had to announce.   
_Those eyes_. It reminded Finn of the woman he had met when he was only a training cadet on BlackFel. He must have been sixteen, working through a hand to hand combat exercise with Slip when she had appeared. A tall devaronian female dressed in a black gown that covered her neck with shoulder sleeves that stuck out in a triangular angle. It clung to her slender body. A grey metal belt was tied around her waist, her grey gloves with armbands that reached elbow height complimented the look. Her long black hair held up in a high ponytail by a grey headpiece with an integrated design of lines inter crossing one another. Her skin was a reddish orange with black tattoos that snaked up her arms. Her face was marked by black tattoos as well. They surrounded her eyes running down to her cheeks, the two lines that were streaked underneath her eyes resembled permanent black tears, two large ovals on her forehead that resembled horns, and two small circles on her lower lip and chin. Finn had been petrified of her large yellow eyes, filled with the same dead cold loathing the young Barbel eyes contained.   
He had been so shaken by the darkness that surrounded the woman, he had miscalculated a step. Getting a hard punch to his lower jaw that sent his head snapping backwards. Captain Ewevs had shaken his head with disappointment, yelled at Finn to get his head out of the gutter before introducing the woman as Darth Maladi, their new supervisor. Moments after a stormtrooper dressed in old Clone War trooper had busted through the door, claiming there had been an explosion and the Supreme Leader had sent him to fetch Ewevs. Ewevs had quickly seen through the facade, demanding him and the rest of his group to aim their blasters at the imposter. “ _Attack formation seven!_ ” Before Finn could even fire, the platform exploded. He had been knocked unconscious. When he had come to, the woman had selected him to personally join her in interrogating the prisoner. Not the trooper responsible for the explosion, no. He had escaped on a _Upsilson_ -class shuttle. But the prisoner retrieved on the hangar bay floor who had been stunned by the imposter.   
A woman using the alias of Ailyn Habbur. Her real name was Ailyn Vel, being held for questioning for impersonating a First Order stormtrooper. Finn had quickly looked over her file on his data pad as he had walked besides Maladi. Ailyn was a female of fourth years, a human-Kiffar hybrid, daughter of an unknown father and Sintas Vel, a notorious bounty hunter whose homeworld was Concord Dawn. Ailyn had made a name for herself as well, based on the lengthy criminal charges she was wanted for on numerous worlds. She had been held in custody for a week. What Finn saw next startled him into silence when the interrogation chamber doors hissed opened. Ailyn Vel’s face was bruised, her hands held tightly in binders behind the chair. Despite looking bored and uninterested, her chest was heaving. Breathing was painfully becoming an effort. She hadn’t been a glamorous woman in the holoimage he had seen on his datapad, but she had been pretty. With big icy blue eyes, waist length long black locks, tan skin with two black tattoos on both sides of her cheek.   
Maladi had taken a seat on the other side of the table to face Ailyn, indicating to Finn with a flick of her wrist to take a seat near the doors. Aliyn had remained defiant, answering with wisecrack remarks and snarky commentary on Maladi’s appearance until Maladi had sent her head slamming into the table without warning, the loud distinctive crack had caused Finn to jump. Not out of fear, but surprise. Maladi had not even lifted a finger. Finn watched uncomfortably for the next two hours as Maladi continued to send the woman’s head slamming onto the table each time she failed to answer her questions. Ailyn’s eventual cries of pain when Maladi extended her hand out over her face. Back then, Finn hadn’t known she was using the same darkside technique Kylo Ren possessed to look inside a person’s mind. It wasn’t until Maladi murmured “daughter” and the name “Mirta Gev,” that Ailyn lost her cool. She started screaming obscenities at Maladi, claiming she had heard stories of Maladi’s kind, that she would kill her with her own bare hands if she so much as looked at her daughter. Maladi had smiled and kept on pressing forward, putting more force when she extended her hand closer to Ailyn’s face.  
 _“I no longer have a need for you, orphan girl. You can die now.”  
_ Seeing a dead body that way… all bruised up, blood trickling down their face, eyes glazed over had sickened Finn. All he could muster was to stare in horror as Maladi kicked the chair over with her foot to send Ailyn’s lifeless body to the ground. She had looked at Ailyn only as if she were a minor inconvenience of the day. When she was questioned by Commandant Brendol Hux and Moff Nyna Callixte on the grotesque method of interrogation, Maladi claimed it was a “necessary death” to avoid the New Republic and the Imperial Remnant Head of State, Jag Fel, from discovering the First Order.   
After Ailyn’s body had been taken away by the medics, Maladi had scrutinized him before determining audibly he would not do, stating he was too weak before leaving him alone in the chamber. Finn had been left feeling perplexed, unsure of what test he had just failed. He had known the First Order took special interest in the “special” troopers like him, the ones who were “Force-sensitive.” Back then he had not understood what that meant, so he had never understood why. All Finn knew was these special troopers were taken and never seen again.   
He had a sneaking suspicion it had something to do with the machine Darth Maladi created, the Embrace of Pain. Named after the original devices created by the infamous Yuuzan Vong during the High Republic era. Maladi had modeled the computer’s intelligence after the Vong’s world brain from the archives, imprinting her and Lumiya’s biometric identifications onto it. Rendering the machine useless to use by anyone that wasn’t either of them. The Embrace was a rack-like restraint with multiple sensors that were attached to the victim’s pain points depending on the species. The sensors would read the electrochemical outputs of the person’s nerve impulses and evaluate the brain chemistry. The results were then input into the device’s algorithm and used to keep pain on its victim at constant, sometimes increasing, excruciating levels.   
The numerous probes attached to the device could cause pain in a variety of forms. Ranging from stretching of ligaments and joints, acid, electric shock, sharp scapulas, needles, thrones, and biotoxins. But the machine was also incredibly smart. When it sensed it’s victim in the brink of death it would release their captive for a brief period of time. Long enough for their victim to sleep and drink water, get enough nutrients to keep them alive before starting the process all over again. Maladi would have needed test subjects. Preferably Force-sensitives who could tolerate more affliction than the average human. Lowy stormtroopers who could easily be replaced solved her problem. Finn shuddered. He had been relieved when the machine had been put to rest after Lumiya's death.   
Finn had only seen the machine used once. Well truthfully, he hadn’t seen it but had heard it. He had been seventeen and drawn the short end of the straw to deliver nutrients to the prisoner that was being held in cell block 2912. The dark, durasteel door prevented Finn from seeing the prisoner’s face, maintaining the anonymity. But when Finn had slid the tray of food underneath the door through the small opening, a pale hand had clamped down on his wrist. A voice begged for help. The voice had sounded like it belonged to a male, someone who was young—no older than Finn. This prisoner had been in the Embrace for over eight months. Yet somehow he managed to sound hopeful—remain hopeful—in light of all that pain and darkness…   
Finn’s biggest regret would always be not helping him. He so desperately wished he could turn back time and demand himself to run away on BlackFel, after Ailyn’s interrogation. To enter hyperspace and never stop until he had reached Hosnian Prime to warn the New Republic of the red skin and tattooed beings who called themselves “The One Sith”, vile and cunning creatures like the likes of Maladi and Lumiya who had slowly taken commander positions within the First Order. Lumiya’s darkside order to rival Luke Skywalker’s Jedi order. Rychel would have been avoided altogether if Finn had escaped sooner. He would have saved the lives of many. He probably could have met Poe much earlier too. Even the Prisoner would have never been captured. Wouldn’t have had to deal with the horrors of the Embrace of Pain.   
And Finn knew the affliction of the prisoner went beyond the Embrace, he had personally seen Snoke enter cell block 2912. Finn had heard rumors of the rare technique Snoke possessed to distort memories, altering an individual’s reality in the process. He couldn’t help but wonder what had become of that prisoner. If he was even alive. He wondered if that person had the same lifeless eyes as Maladi and the Barbel. What had the First Order turned the prisoner into?   
“In approximately ten minutes, we’ll be arriving at Coruscant, jewel of the old Republic, renowned home of the Jedi, and famous for its galaxy-renowned cuisine. Strap in! Dameron out!” _  
_Finn rolled his eyes, silently thanking Poe for snapping him out of his dark thoughts. He began walking up the corridor, settling his mind. Despite the prisoner experiencing unspeakable horrors that would make a noble person snap, they were no different than Finn. He had been brainwashed by the First Order, yet he had been capable of fighting through his programming. So, he summarized that the prisoner would too, if they chose to, wherever they were.  
“Uh, Finn,” Poe’s voice blurted back out, “you might want to come and take a look at this!”  
Finn rushed towards Poe, settling into the bench next to him and gazing out through the cockpit window. BB-8 tweedled curiously at him. “Whoa!”  
It looked like they’d rolled up in the middle of an epic space battle that had been put on a momentary pause. hanging in the air above Coruscant, there were enough First Order star destroyers, TIE fighter squadrons, and corvettes who could in a heartbeat turn and decimate the planet. Opposite from it, dozens of New Republic frigates, gunships, and civilian corvettes cruised in the darkness. All sides were locked and loaded according to the wildly beeping notification on the sensor screen.  
“I thought the invasion wasn’t supposed to take place for another day,” Finn said.  
“So did I,” Poe fumbled, clicking random buttons and pulling down on the throttle. A sleek unmarked New Republic Intelligence freighter banked toward them.   
“This is Taka Jamoreesa, Head of Intelligence. _Dynamic_ -class freighter, _Ebon Hawk,_ this is a restricted sector. Just what,” a gruff voice sounded over the speakers, “in tarnation do you think you're doing, Dameron!”   
“Taka!” Poe exclaimed. “Buddy, listen it’s so good to hear your voice. The General sent us here to help. We weren’t aware of the situation. Requesting permission to engage those eyeballs and dock on Coruscant. I need to speak to Vice Admiral Holdo and Commander Rose Tico.”  
“Negative, _Hawk_. Holdo’s gone kid,” Taka said. “We are currently blocking this sector until Commander Tico and Lieutenant Sena make it off world. Either get in line or get lost.”  
Poe shook his head. “See, I can’t do that, Taka. I have strict orders to follow.”   
After a brief pause, their voice came back. “Wouldn’t be the first time you didn’t, kid. I heard about what happened back on D’Qar. Don’t make the same mistake again, don’t play hero. Disengage now. Refuse, and I will be forced to shoot you down. Get back in line!”   
“Sorry, friend,” Poe disconnected the transmission, he grimaced when the sensor computer began bleeping an urgent warning. Finn peered over. “Uh, one of _those_ Star Destroyers looks interested in us too.”  
It was a First Order Star destroyer, small in size compared to the others. revamped and newly polished to the point of being Imperial-acceptable. Poe let out a low whistle, and He steered them over to their new target.   
“So, what’s the plan?”  
Poe shrugged, “Try to appear as little and harmless as we possibly can to those guys.” He pointed towards the First Order armada. “Let’s hope our guys don’t blow us to pieces. Then find out what the hell is going on. Contact the General. Pray we don’t get lit up just because.”  
“Aren’t we pretty little and harmless considering it’s you piloting?”  
Poe flashed him a mischievous grin. “I like how you roll. Let’s just keep bringing it in nice and easy, keep it moving.”  
The computer sensor beeped again.  
“They’re contacting us,” Finn said. “Want me to answer?”  
“Yeah, go with… Oh! We are a New Republic maintenance crew. I’ll take it from there.”  
“What if they ask to board?”  
Poe leaned back, grinning at BB-8. “We improvise.”  
Finn felt uneasy, there was a whole lot of firepower looming over the vector. Still he put the transmission through. A long, sallow face of an older woman glared at them. Her leather pilot cap sat on her head, several coils of her dark blue hair were left free. Her small, disturbingly shiny eyes, they reminded Finn of two nebulas—vastly dark. Needy and desperate. Before he could ask Poe if he was seeing this, her eyes widened. Returning to a normal humanoid size. Inscrutable assessing Finn’s manor. What the-  
“This is Captain Lydea Pagorski of the _Bloodfin_ ,” she spoke in a tightly-accented basic. “Identify yourselves or be boarded and destroyed!”  
Finn found himself at a loss for words. _Her eyes,_ He rubbed his own for good measures, _Am I losing it?_  
“Greetings, Captain Pagorski,” Poe said with ease, realizing Finn was currently unable to string a cohesive sentence together, “we are a New Republic maintenance vessel en route to Coruscant to perform some routine repairs on the inner patrol perimeter station.”  
After a few insufferable seconds of silence, Lydea Pagorski’s pain-stricken grimace cracked. She burst out laughing. Poe looked startled, BB-8’s dome head rotated back and forth between his master and the transmission. Finn held his breath.  
“Is there a problem?” Poe finally asked.  
“You picked a very interesting moment to do some repairs. Are you not aware Coruscant is practically under First Order rule now?” She flashed them a sinister smirk. It resembled a Nexus. Finn was afraid her face would split in two from the effort. “How is it that you are a New Republic vessel doing New Republic work on a supposed New Republic world and you haven’t been briefed on the current situation facing the New Republic at this exact location?”  
“We-” Poe and Finn stuttered.  
“Prepare to be boarded,” Captain Pagorski said, signaling someone off to her left. “This conversation will be more productive if we know what cargo you carry.”  
“That’s a negative, Captain,” Poe said, “we are under explicit instructions to precede directly to a New Republic capital ship and-”  
Her image flickered and then vanished. The _Ebon Hawk_ shook as the large vessel pulled alongside it and locked onto its air lock port.  
“Damn it,” Poe grunted. “Your old buddies don’t have any manners.” He pushed a series of buttons.   
Finn turned to BB-8. “Get ready, BB!”  
Captain Pagorski's face appeared once again on the dashboard. She looked downright pissed. “You have fully armed all your proton torpedoes, _Ebon Hawk_. Why is a small New Republic freighter even carrying such a heavy load of artillery?”  
“None of your business!” Poe shot back. “What is your business is that I will let loose the full barrage if you attempt to board this vessel.”  
“You wouldn’t dare!” she hissed. “You would be destroyed along with us, you lunatic!”  
Poe ran his fingers along an array of buttons, and both ships rocked as explosions lit up alongside the starboard side of the _Bloodfin_.  
Pagorski grimaced. “You’ve just cost the lives of your friends, _Poe Dameron_.” She barked orders to someone off to her right. “Call back the loading party. Detach and pull away.”   
Poe grinned and pressed one more button, sending a laser blast across the _Bloodfin’s_ nose.   
“Let these maniacs pass!” Kem yelled.   
Poe exhaled in relief, relaxing back into his chair as the Holo blipped out of existence and the _Bloodfin_ glided away. Finn wanted to ask him how the woman had known his name, but he barely even had time to grip onto his chair when Poe hit full throttle. He closed his eyes, awaiting death when he realized his friend was insane. He was going to ram the left side of the _Bloodfin_. When he didn’t feel the ear-piercing shriek of durasteel scraping durasteel, he opened his eyes. It took a couple of minutes for Finn to realize Poe had jumped into hyperspace, light skipping across the barricade.   
Poe banked starboard, grazing an asteroid before ricocheting off a space mine that denoted moments after. Poe banked again, sending them spinning, attempting to outmaneuver a pair of Rendili light cruisers on station in Coruscant’s innermost patrol perimeter, who were hot on their tail. Asteroids and space mines floated through the darkness. Finn looked out the viewport to where citizen vessels were being herded towards a narrow band. More than a dozen parts of New Republic freighters and First Order TIE fighters floated through the air, every so often a rocket fire would lace the darkness as a floating part would set off shells when it touched an orbiting space mine.   
A trap. The thought dawned on Finn, they hauled asteroids and space mines to keep the First Order out. Unfortunately, it had failed.   
“Hold on, Finn!” Poe called out, pressing numerous buttons and flipping switches on the control panel. “It’s going to be a rough landing!”   
The _Ebon Hawk_ began to spin as it descended toward Coruscant. Poe tried to get a hang of the controls while Finn frantically pushed buttons. He tried the best he could to remain calm and act on instinct, pressing each button he felt could help them from becoming scrap metal. As they made planet-fall, Poe managed to steady the ship as Finn set it to hover just before its speed accelerated enough for it to catch on fire.  
“Or maybe not,” Poe chuckled. “ _Phew_! That was close. Thanks buddy, I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”  
That caught Finn by surprise. Poe has been a great teacher when it comes to piloting and he always praised Finn’s progress but this felt… different. So different that even though he knew the obvious response, he could not get the words out from the weird, tingling feeling in his stomach.  
“I know a perfect place to land. Quick and easy. Out of sight from any unwelcome guests. It should be… here!” Poe flew down to what looked like an immense palace with a distinctive crown of five spires that rose out of the Coruscant horizon.  
“Wow, this place puts Ravi’s palace to shame, just look at it!” Finn announced.  
“I wouldn’t get too excited, a lot of bad stuff happened here too,” Poe replied. “This was the Jedi Temple that Darth Vader marched in with a legion of Clone Troopers and wiped out all the Jedi inside. Luke Skywalker rebuilt it. He used it as a temporary base for the Jedi Knights during the crisis. He was going to officially open a second academy here but after Kef Bir-” Poe grimaced. “I wonder what’s happened to it since then.”   
“Guess we’re about to find out,” Finn sighed.  
“Let’s see,” Poe murmured, his eyes searching. They brightened at a particular spot near the Temple’s central spire. Poe searched, squinting his eyes. He made out the small outline of a tree stump at the heart of the open courtyard, just against the wall. “I knew it! There it is!”  
“What is it?”  
“That’s the training ground! This is where the Great Tree I told you about used to be. The one that the Emperor cut down and stored in a secret base on Vetine. That didn’t stop Luke Skywalker from taking half of it though, and he gave the other half to my mother. She planted it right outside our home.” Finn couldn’t help but feel warmth in his heart as he saw a young, boyish fascinated expression on Poe’s face as he remembered his fond childhood memories on Yavin IV. “This is the perfect spot to land.”  
Poe lowered the _Ebon Hawk_ onto the middle of the courtyard and they both exited the ship. “Come on,” Poe flashed him a roguish grin, “the turbolifts are that way. We’ll be able to get a better scope of the city from up there.” Side by side, BB-8 trailing diligently behind them, they walked up the flesh-tinted stone steps, entering the turbo lift.   
Once the doors of the turbolift opened, they entered a dimly lit chamber with huge windows that revealed the orange and white striped sunset beneath the Coruscant skyline. The room appeared to have been abandoned for some time, if the dust and soot present were any indication. The throne itself was raised four steps above the floor and, while massive, was solid black and unadorned. At the side of the chamber, there was a garden area that, despite being small, contained a variety of decaying exotic plants that seemed to have been collected from every corner of the galaxy. Most had been grown in pots or in floor trenches that lined the curved flagstone walkways and small trees stood at its periphery. The distance from the garden to the throne ensured a degree of privacy. Finn sensed a malevolent presence here, hungry for power and status. It moved in his chest like a symbiont that had invaded his body.   
“Before Luke rebuilt this place, Emperor Palpatine remodeled it into his Imperial Palace,” Poe spoke. “This was the Emperor’s throne room, which I think used to be the room where the Jedi Council met. Luke refused to convert it back. Wouldn’t even go near this floor. Banned any of the Knights from coming up here. Not like that ever stopped any of them, but the darkness here made it unpleasant. The traces of the Emperor never truly vanished from this place.”  
He wasn’t kidding. There was an eerie chill in the air. But despite that, Poe sauntered over to one of the windows, gazing at the sun about to set. “Wow, what a view, huh? I wish you could’ve seen the ones on Hosnian Prime.”  
“Yeah,” Finn breathed out. “Sometimes, I wish I could just run off somewhere and enjoy this every day. Some place like here, or maybe a waterworld.”  
“Like Castilon?”  
“Hmm, maybe Aquilaris. Best of both worlds, you kn-” he stopped as he noticed Poe was looking at him now instead of the sunset, the orange light glowing on his face. The pilot's expression surprised him, a look of curiosity, as if he had taken an interest in Finn’s idea of running away to a world with the likes of Aquilaris. He searched his feelings and sensed what seemed to be desire radiating from his friend.   
Suddenly, Poe started leaning forward—and Finn could feel his own body doing the same on its own. His heart started pounding, his mind racing. _What’s going on, why can’t I stop myself_? Their faces inched closer and closer. Halfway there, now they were practically in each other’s personal space. Finn didn’t know what to do but before he could think of anything else, BB-8 rolled in between them and beeped. Poe gave a soft chuckle.  
“Um,” Finn bit his lip nervously, “what did he say?”   
Bb-8 turned his dome head in Finn’s direction and gave a more authoritative warble. Finn was still learning how to understand binary, but he definitely understood “take a look around the city” and “Rose and Sena’s ships” and some colorful words of profanity.   
“Right,” Finn and Poe said in unison, the moment temporarily lost between them. Finn shifted his focus to the city. They opened their electrobinoculars to scope the streets of Coruscant. The city was flooded with patrols of stormtroopers stationed everywhere, marching the streets. What was strange though, despite being invaded and on the brink of fully being conquered, Coruscant civilians were out and about. Living their daily lives, walking the streets or flying speeders in the air. Up ahead at the center of the city, a giant ship hovered over the buildings with a long spike trailed to the ground from its center, surrounded by what look like buildings reaching at most halfway.   
“This isn’t good,” Poe asserted. “The city is thick with guards. We’re outnumbered.” He panned a little further to the right and spotted two V-wing airspeeders near the Senate Building where six stormtroopers stood guard. “Well, I see Rose and Sena’s ships. But I don’t see them, just some bucket heads waiting by their ships. The Senate Building is out. They have to be somewhere else in the city. So, team leader, what’s our next move?”  
Finn sighed as he looked away from the electrobinoculars. “I suppose we’ll have to lay low, try to figure out what exactly is going on here and what this invasion will mean for the Resistance.”  
BB-8 beeped to Poe, giving him a suggestion.  
“Oh yeah! I know a guy. Big secret. He owns a cantina in the undercity. But the stormtroopers-” Poe sighed, annoyed. “Maybe we can find a way around them downstairs. We gotta find an entrance to the lower levels.”   
Poe took Finn’s hand and led him through the corridors down to the main lobby when they exited off the turbolift. They came upon a maze of passages that lead to the main chamber. Upon entering the vast room, Finn titled his chin back, struck in awe. The building was four stories tall, with many tiers and balconies. Marble pillars lined the halls. It’s architecture and interior design were aggressively old school, a cast of sepia marble and gold pleekwood. He exhaled sharply, surprised. He could feel the Jedi that had once patrolled these corridors. Impressions of brotherhood, a sense of belonging, of purpose, community, of _family_ surrounded him, making him feel whole.   
But there was also that familiar darkness he had felt in the throne room twisted with it. Finn meshed his hands together, and felt something he had never expected to sense here, in the heart of the Jedi Temple: Ambition. That same love for power and status but in a sick twisted way. Not out of a selfish want to dominate but rather an ambition that was a statement of government, self-righteous entitlement. The “true” keepers of the Force. It felt as if the Jedi had built up this notion like sediment in an ancient river over centuries. This didn’t feel like the Jedi of the Old Republic that the General and Maz spoke to him of. The Jedi that Rey wanted to be. This felt similar to the propaganda the First Order had drilled into his mind since he was a child.  
“ _They take children from their parents in the middle of the night. Train them to be soldiers and emotionless voids_ ,” a voice from his past whispered to him. “ _Genocidal maniacs who start war over indoctrinates and dogma. When an unwise cult is given such a high position of power over a long period of time, they begin to turn a blind eye to the injustice of the galaxy. Slavery. Crime. Even children like you. The Jedi are not your salvation. They never will be. The First Order is_.”   
Finn didn’t like it. It made him feel uneasy. He shivered at the phantom touch of the mundane sense of self-absorbed hunger that gripped the building. Despite being desperate to leave this place, he paused when he walked through the lobby. Staring at the different portraits that decorated the marble wall. He recognized a young Luke Skywalker, from the many holos he had seen, standing side by side with whom Finn assumed were Skywalker’s first trainees. A group of six, ranging from different species. A woman with beautiful green eyes and medium length auburn hair stood beside Skywalker. Smiling, despite the hardness that was present in her eyes.   
The next ten portraits or so consisted of only adults, the groups increasing in size. All well over the Core World’s standard legal age. A common variant Finn quickly noticed.   
But the twelfth portrait, deviated from the norm. In the picture stood eight children. Their ages range from late childhood to young adolescent. All laughing—except for the oldests who were clearly annoyed—making obnoxious faces. Frozen in time. The two that seemed to be in their early teens were a human boy with dark raven black hair with almond shaped eyes. Sticking his tongue out, an arm thrown around the shoulder of another human boy whose black locks were longer than the others. He was shamelessly grinning.   
Finn would have recognized that melancholy version of Han Solo’s famous grin anywhere. That boy was Kylo Ren, or rather the person he had once been. Next to Kylo, in the middle, was a girl who appeared to be the same age. Dark brown hair with auburn streaks, her piercing icy blue eyes with gold specks, shooting a killer intent glare in their direction. Next to her stood the oldest of the bunch, onlooking curiously. A human girl with bronze skin and a long white braid, a male Quarren, a human boy with spiked dark brown hair and hazel eyes. The youngest of the group were two small human girls sitting on top of a crate. One of the girls had the same features as the boy with dark brown hair, her hair in a high crown of Alderaanian braids Finn had seen the General style before. A lone wisp of platinum strand framed her face. She had a faint hint of a smile on her lips.   
Yet, her hazel eyes seemed sad, as if she had lived across a thousand millennials and was upset that someone had the audacity to send her back to the living world. She held two fingers up behind the other girl, who was much smaller in height and clearly the youngest of the group. Her face was obscured by large oversized goggles, the red lenses giving her a comical appearance. Her hair was a wild array of short, light brown tresses. She had her arms wrapped around her abdomen. The large grin on her face was an indication she was laughing. She was happy.   
There was something familiar about this girl. As if Finn had seen her somewhere before, but he couldn’t place where. Before he could think any further of it, he felt an onslaught of emotions cascade down on him, causing him to stumble. Death and life, self-conviction, love, hate, fear, peace, selfishness, goodness, evil, regret. Dark tendrils wrapped around him, a needy desperation tugged at his soul. Seething he reached out for the stone pillar and closed his eyes. 

—

Poe quickly noticed that Finn had suddenly stopped moving. He turned back to look and he was startled to see the spooked expression etched on Finn’s face. He had gone pale, his eyes closed. He had seemed calm just a minute ago. He wondered what could have changed Finn’s mood so quickly.  
“Finn, you doing okay?” he asked, walking back to playfully bump elbows with his comrade. Finn slowly shook his head, color returning to his cheeks as he was being brought back to reality.  
“You look like you were in a trance there.”  
“Yeah, just felt something… _cold_ ,” Finn spoke, barely louder than a whisper, as if he didn’t want someone to hear.   
Poe could only offer him a melancholy smile. “I told you bad things happened here.”   
Finn nodded, before glancing at the wall to their left. “That girl,” Finn pointed at the portrait, “who is she?”   
Poe glanced over. He felt a sharp stab in his chest, staring at the faces of those that had long passed and become one with the Force. The Jedi he had befriended during the Draven Crisis, some fellow members of the now disbanded Jade Squadron. There was also Ben, as he had once been. Visibly happy in the company of his best friend, Tai. His childhood friends Meredith and Raynar Thul. His classmates Voe and Hennix. The dreaded Isteana Kestis. But that little girl, Poe pondered. Ben had mentioned her once or twice in the few holo messages he had sent. The tag along, “me too'' little sister of the group he had called her.   
“I never met her, so I don’t know much. Only her name,” Poe answered honestly. Smiling when he met Finn’s gaze before turning his attention back towards the portrait. “Kyra. I think they called her ‘Goggles.’ Because of the, you know,” he motioned towards his eyes. “She was best friends with her,” he pointed at the girl with the Alderannian braids, “Meredith Thul. She was among the first casualties of the Crisis. Kyra, she… she ‘died’ on Hapes.” Not wanting to talk about any longer, the memory of faces in the ocean and wailing had become all too real, Poe turned and continued walking down the dark lit hall. He could hear Finn scurrying behind him in a poor attempt to keep up.   
“What do you mean ‘died?’”  
“You know, kicked the bucket. Resting in peace. Deceased…”  
“Don't be a smart ass,” Finn snapped.   
Poe sighed and ran his hand down his face, frustrated. “They never found a body, all right?” He kept his voice hushed. “Meredith refused to believe Kyra was dead. Some of her denial eventually rubbed off on Ben too. I think he wanted to believe it was possible Kyra could still be alive. Because if she was, so could Mara Jade Skywalker.”   
Finn frowned, clearly having missed something.   
“His aunt,” Poe’s voice softened. “She died that day too. Ben’s the one who found her body. It did something to him, you know? I am not excusing him from what he’s become. Far from it. But grief has a funny way of affecting people.” Poe shook his head. “I was there that day, Finn. I saw the bodies floating in the water with my own eyes. That nanovirus… The few we could recover, we brought back to the mainland. Gave them a proper burial. The sea took everyone else. The ship that Kyra was on was completely submerged underwater. Force sensitive or not, not even an adult could have survived that.”   
“I didn’t know the First Order sold the nanovirus to the Rinnivirin Di’ cartel,” Finn blurted. The shame was obvious in the way his eyes were avoiding Poe’s. “I didn’t know a lot of things. Only what little I would overhear from my commanding officers. They would laugh about it. They said the New Republic was a joke.”   
He hesitated, perhaps not wanting to offend Poe. His parents had died during the Crisis, protecting the New Republic. Believing in the peace it was built upon after the Emperor’s death. But the Sith had been so prevalent, an entire order devised of Acolytes—Lumiya’s personal assassins—Sith masters, lords and apprentices had been flourishing under their noses. The world in which Finn had trained on, BlackFel, had been a New Republic world. Yet, most of the Resistance members Finn had conversed with had no clue what a Sith was. Had no clue the First Order was behind the attacks on Hapes, Ryloth, Rhommammol, Arkanis, Hays Minor, Sinkhole Station and Rychel. Or that they were paying cartels to raid New Republic weapon transports in the Outer Rim. The death behind so many prominent Populist senators. Besides Poe and Syal Antilles, ex members of Rogue Squadron who had been briefed by Luke Skywalker on the Sith when they went to Rychel, the rest of the galaxy was utterly clueless.   
“Poe, how is that no one noticed the First Order was behind all of these attacks?”   
“Simple,” Poe said. “Corrupt and greedy politicians. Tired citizens. The Thrawn Campaign and The New Republic-Imperial Remnant war took a toll on the economy. Cartels saw an opportunity and claimed it. The nanovirus shocked everyone. Towards the end of it, I don’t think the New Republic themselves even knew who it was fighting anymore. The enemy was everywhere. Snoke did a fine job at framing the Imperial Remnant’s for the mess. Turning centrist senators to the First Order cause.”   
“And the One Sith?”  
“The galaxy at large doesn’t understand the difference between a Jedi and Sith. Most don’t even know what a Jedi is. Not since the days of the last Republic. All they know is the myth and Vader. To them, the Sith is the equivalent of a Jedi off his meds. Regardless, the old Chief of State Borsk and Luke Skywalker didn’t want to cause a mass hysteria. They opted to leave word Sith out of the HoloNews. I didn’t even know what they were until Rychel. Up until then, I only knew the code name given to them from the briefings. ‘Shadow Academy.’” Poe clasped his hand on Finn’s bicep and gently squeezed. “What they did, it’s not your fault, Finn. You were only following orders.”   
Finn nodded. “I just needed to make sure that you knew. I’m not like them.”  
“I know,” Poe smiled. “Now let’s see which of these turbolift will take us to the undercity. I’ll even let you pick first.”   
Now that his head was clearer, an idea popped in Finn’s head. “Maz told me on Ando Prime, after we evacuated D’Qar, that she had heard stories from some Jedi that there was a way down to the undercity through secret tunnels under the temple,” he offered.   
“Some Jedi?” Poe chuckled. “She probably meant Ben and Tai. Knowing them, they probably left a trail behind.” He reached for Finn’s hand again. “Let’s go find those tunnels.”


	13. Finn and Poe meet Jariah Syn, Commander Rose Tico, and Sena

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: 
> 
> Mentions of political riots and police brutality 
> 
> Unwanted sexual comments towards a character 
> 
> Also, the new title is officially “The Fate of Skywalker.” We felt like it was a better title and a better fit for the story.

Poe, Finn, and BB-8 had been wriggling their way like worms along a damp, constricting, waste-fluid pipe for what felt like hours. After following the long underground narrow passages deep beneath the belly of the Jedi Temple, they had climbed into the sewage system, forced to crawl into the old, creaking pipes. Covered in grime from head to toe, drenched in sweat, Finn was beginning to think there was no end to the maze. Their only guide through the vast pipes and tunnels underneath the Jedi Temple were markings written in Aurebesh detailing the sector grid and location.   
Poe had given a triumphant grin when they had discovered the first message. Finn supposed sneaking out of the Jedi Temple was not the intended purpose the Jedi of the Old Republic had envisioned for the pipes. Overall, he was having a hard time grasping who in their right mind would even want to risk leaving through this ancient city’s infrastructure. It was a disaster waiting to happen. Water from other pipelines sporadically leaked in, some of it foul smelling. If a fierce rain were to take place, pipes like this could be flooded and washed clean. They would need a lightsaber to cut their way out of that one—a lightsaber he wished he had—or risk being drowned after being taken by the current.   
These were the rare instances he wished he had taken up Maz’s or even Rey’s offer to train him. It wasn’t that he was ashamed that he was Force-sensitive, or even afraid. The fear Kylo Ren had inflicted when he had sliced his sizzling blade on Finn’s spine had long disappeared when his scar healed. But the little he remembered of Luke Skywalker’s Jedi Order when he was in the First Order, coupled in with the Jedi teachings he’d witnessed Leia and Maz passing onto Rey and perhaps some bias from his upbringing—he had reached the conclusion that the Jedi were no better than the First Order’s stormtrooper program.   
Like the First Order, the Jedi handed children a lethal weapon at an age where with the exception of Naboo, they were unable to vote in most worlds. Sure it could be said the Jedi protected the galaxy, that they were the great gatekeepers of the light side of the Force. Enforcers of peace. But the First Order believed they were in the right too; Fancying themselves as the embodiment of the true Empire. How could a child be expected to know what was right and wrong when they were indoctrinated at such a young age into an organization that thrived on manipulation? The only upside to this fiasco was Poe. Who, ever the adrenaline cocky flyboy, was enjoying this more than he should have. Finn could see the way his eyes danced, a glimmer of jousting, challenging him to lighten up.   
As they inched near a metal grate, Finn could clearly see a round circular entrance that had been cut out from the durasteel; Lightsaber scorch marks were evident. He recoiled at the thought he was taking the same path Kylo Ren had once navigated through, with a friend no less. Poe had mentioned a name…  _ Tai.  _ Finn couldn’t help but wonder what that said about the mysterious Tai, to be friends with a monster.   
Poe laughed, rolling his eyes as he trailed his fingers along the scorch marks. “Teenagers. So uncivilized.”   
He turned on a glow rod then dropped down the hole to land lightly on a duracreet floor two meters down. The still warm end of the tube scraped against Finn’s pants, leaving them smudged with grease and filth. He groaned before jumping down and landing beside Poe, only stumbling an inch. In Aurebesh, written in dark ink on the durasteel was “Second Security Zone. Plaza - Senate Building.”   
“We’re inside the Second Security Zone,” Finn murmured, “under the Plaza approaching the Senate Building.”   
Poe glanced around. He grinned again and pointed down another vertical shaft, where there was another lightsaber cut opening. “That way!”   
They continued their trek. Finding six more circular openings that lead further down into the undercity of Coruscant. When they reached a corridor that no longer contained circular openings, Poe held his glow rod overhead, running his fingers along the pavement hatches that were spaced out three meters above on the shaft. Finally, he found the one, written in an elegant scription: “Rawk”.   
Poe suddenly took off his umber leather jacket, exposing his white long sleeve shirt. He wiped his face clean on the inside of his jacket, his only article of clothing that wasn’t covered in sewage waste. He shook off the disc shaped beetle that had at some point in their journey gotten its tiny legs stuck to his hair. Poe ran his fingers through his black hair too smooth out the ends. He rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, exposing a hint of chiseled muscles. All Finn could do was ogle. A strange warmth shot throughout his entire body.  
“Take it off.”   
Finn was sure he was going to expire here on the spot. BB-8, who had been surprisingly quiet up until now, gave an equally startled beep. “Um,” Finn laughed nervously, “what?”  
Poe titled his head to the side, BB-8 copied his owner’s movement, Poe’s eyes and BB-8’s photoreceptor roamed over Finn’s startled expression. “I said,” Poe repeated slowly, “we can’t go out there looking like this. Our jackets are a dead giveaway we’re with the Resistance. Take it off.”  
“But,” Finn stuttered, “you gave me this jacket.”   
Poe gave him another strange look. Like the one he had given Finn when they were in the throne room. When they had begun to inch in and-  
BB-8 gave a series of warbles.  
Unsure of what to do and afraid to make this situation any more awkward than it already was, Finn headed to where BB-8 had rolled to. “What did you find, BB?” Finn asked.  
Finn kneeled down, not seeing much at first. Only durasteel and the pipes that horizontally lined it. But upon further inspection he noticed a small square shaped black trash can turned upside down. That was odd. He lifted it a couple of inches up. What he was expecting to find he wasn’t unsure of, but before his overactive imagination could get the best of him, he flipped over the trash can. A haggard down, Grand Army of the Republic era backpack laid underneath. He picked it up, taking in the white washed discolored black symbol embroider in the front, running his thumbs over the leader straps. It was light, perhaps it contained clothing. But what kind of idiot would leave clothes here-   
“ _ I know you, Ben Solo. _ ”   
The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, Finn felt cold all over. His eyes darted around the tunnels, trying to find the source of where that voice had come from. Poe raised his eyebrow, Finn could only bring his finger to his lip.   
_ “You're not as bad as you think.”   
_ He heard a self deprecating laugh, a shiver shot down his spine. He realized this was coming through the Force. The same way he had felt all those impressions in the Jedi Temple, he was now hearing a conversation that had taken place years ago.   
_ “You sure about that?”   
_ “ _ Don’t be afraid of what others will think.” _ The other voice reassured, “ _ Just be who you are. The rest will follow.”   
_ There was more laughter, but a heavy sadness wrapped itself around Finn. It reminded him of a speeder boat stranded at sea during a storm, anchored against the restless waves who crashed against one another. The ocean was at war with itself during a storm.   
Just like this. Finn felt fear too, fear of the unknown. Fear of what would happen if he let go. But there was also this… not exactly hope, but… a belief that regardless of what happened, he would be okay. “Invincible,” the words came to him in a whisper.   
It almost reminded Finn of Kylo Ren, but with more humanity behind it instead of the angst.   
_ “I’ll race ya to Rawk! Last one there is a rotten narglatch.”   
_ So this is who you were, Finn couldn’t help but wonder. It disgusted him how much this intrigued him. Kylo Ren had killed his own father. He was a monster. He shouldn’t feel any form of empathy for him.   
_ “Ben!”   
_ _ “You’re buying!”  
_ Yet, Rey had moments like these too. Where she would go somewhere else, or hear things through the Force and she would stay still. Deep in thought. Leia had told her the Force was trying to tell her something. She just needed to listen.   
_ “I’m not the one with the fancy trust fund, your highness.”   
_ Finn wondered what the Force was trying to tell him.   
_ “Eat your heart out.”   
_ When the silence returned, Finn tossed the bag to Poe, not even bothering to look over his shoulder to see if he had even aimed correctly.   
“I think that belonged to... you know who.” He coughed in an effort to masquerade the tremble in his voice. He heard the rustle and click of the satchel being opened. He slowly returned to full height and exhaled.   
He turned around and found Poe shifting through a black tunic with a crisp collar, embroidered with a navy pattern and a pair of matching trousers. It was made from shimmersilk, and Finn had to resist the temptation to touch it. It was made out of the same expensive silk the dresses the queen of Naboo fashioned in the holozines. A style the son of a princess would wear. Finn snorted, finding for the first time some sort of amusement in their stark situation.   
“Even back then,” Finn shook his head, “he didn’t wear anything but  _ black _ ?”  
Poe gave him a wry smile, shifting through the content inside the backpack. He pulled out a dark red bantha leather overcoat.   
“Some people can pull it off, Finn,” Poe said as he slipped on the overcoat.   
He looked charming, a smug expression settled on his face as he fixed the sleeves and collar.   
“Well, clearly he can’t.”   
That made Poe tilt his head back and laughed. A laugh so full of life, Finn could hear him laugh forever. And if it wasn’t contagious, Poe would then try to make you laugh with him, whether it’s from tickling or funny faces—like the one he is making right now imitating a young Ben Solo. That was probably one of his favorite qualities about Poe.   
Finn smiled in return, a silent thank you as Poe extended the backpack to him. The other clothes it contained were more Finn’s style anyway, a white shirt with a crimson vest and dark brown trousers. He slipped on the dark red vest, reluctantly taking off his jacket and settling it on.   
Poe gave him a once over, nodded in satisfaction and reached for the pavement latch. “BB-8, you stay in the tunnels. We’ll let you know where to meet us and we’ll come find you.”  
BB-8 beeped in agreement.   
Poe protruded his head and motioned to Finn that it was alright to climb out. He stared in wonder at the lights that vibratently flickered from the neon signs. Chadra-Fan, Rodians, Quarrens, Zeltrons, and Pantorans scampering gingerly across the dark streets. Despite that awful smell of pungent alcohol, run down buildings, and sewage water that pooled the streets, Finn could almost allow himself to be swept away by the wonders of this world. It made him feel invincible, which was strange considering this was the part of Coruscant few sentiments wandered to. But the blinding lights, the way the war had yet to seep its fingers into the small human child with twin braids that walked past him, laughing, holding onto his mother’s hand, well…   
He then noticed a boy who seemed homeless, sitting in the corner of the alleway to his right, clothes dirtied and tattered. His face expressed patience, as if he were waiting for a parent.  _ Stranded.  _ The boy reminded Finn so much of Rey—and even a bit of himself. Left in the barren streets of a nearly conquered planet, surrounded by those trying to take over or by civilians that where too self-absorbed to even care to help. Sometimes those kinds of people intertwined. Finn too had been surrounded by self-absorbed people his whole life, used as a pawn, forced to aimlessly do their bidding with others like him—the lost and the broken. Taken away from families that they may never get to see.   
He doesn’t know how he got there, or why. But he does know that it was a mistake—and there are people out there waiting for him to return. To come back  _ home. _ There  _ must  _ be. That means he needed to keep going. Keep fighting.  _ Survive _ . To end the First Order.  
The boy snapped Finn out of it as he ran into the arms of a girl who looked not much older than him, a sibling most likely. The girl reached in her pocket and handed scraps of food she must’ve found ransacking through garbage. He takes and happily consumes them with no hesitation, a hint of relief on his face as walks away with his “sister” in hand. Despite their circumstances, he hoped they had a family to come back to—a mother and a father whose love is all they have left to offer.   
He turned to see Poe holding an outstretched hand towards him. A deep blush settled on Finn’s cheek as he reached out, thinking back again to the moment from earlier.  
“I don’t care who he is! I’m going to kill him!”   
Finn froze, Poe’s jaws locked in place. They nodded, reaching into their blaster holders carefully, their eyes searching the bustling streets for the voice.   
A blaster shot rang through the air, coming from their left. Finn whirled around. Just as he was getting prepared to aim, a strong hand cupped around his bicep. He whipped his head to Poe, whose eyebrows were scrunched up together as he silently mouthed “No” tilting his head, motioning for Finn to look at where the sound was coming from. Finn did and he quickly spotted a man with dark skin leaping through the air from an apartment window. The man wore a pair of black trousers that were being held up by a brown leather belt. A red sash tied low at his hip. He was well-built, Finn could admire that. His muscles gleamed underneath the moonlight. In his hand, the man held his crumbled tunic. He landed in a low crouch.   
“We were just meditating!” The man yelled.   
A Twi'lek male’s angry, pale green face appeared at the window. His NT-242 sniper rifle aimed at the head of the young man.   
From another window, the face of a young Twi'lek female emerged. Flirtatiously smirking and batting her soot lashes, she waved at the young man. “I’ll always love you, my prince!”   
That only enticed the Twi’lek male to fire a warning shot at the young man who, much to Finn’s surprise, dropped to the floor and rolled just in time to avoid the bullet from nipping his ankle.   
Coming to a stand, the young man pulled his tunic over his head. A roguish grin plastered on his face. He winked at the female Twi’lek and shouted, “I’ll see you next week,  _ pateesa _ !”   
The Twi'lek male mumbled a string of curses before slamming his window shut. The female followed suit. The young man ran a hand through his long dreads, mumbling something under his breath before slamming right into Poe. He tethered, but Finn braced his fall. Poe mumbled a thanks yet he didn’t even bother to look at him. He was too entertained in sparking up a conversation with the young man.   
“Was she too young?” Poe jostled.   
Finn’s eyebrow rose, surprised at the bold question Poe was choosing to strike up a conversation with this stranger.  
Something strange flashed in the young man's face, as if he couldn’t decide if he should be insulted, confused, relieved or all three. He finally settled on relief, flashing Poe a charming smirk. “Nah,” the young man laughed, “too married.”   
Poe burst out laughing and brought the man into a hug, clapping him in the back. “Never change, Jariah Syn.”   
The young man, Jariah, returned the hug. When he pulled away he ran his hand through his face. His laughter never fading. “Dameron! Ya know, I almost didn’t recognize you with that coat. Looks like something Ben would wear.”  
“Yeah.” Poe’s smile faltered.  
“It’s crazy, isn’t it?” Jariah sighed. “On the bright side, no more Jedi. Shame about Ben, though. I heard he died when Kylo and the Knights of Ren attacked Kef Bir.”   
“Mhm,” Poe murmured.   
Finn politely cleared his throat. Partly because he knew Kylo Ren’s true identity was a touchy subject for Poe—especially having to lie about Ben Solo’s “death”—and partly because he didn’t like the way this handsome young stranger was looking at Poe.   
“Oh!” Poe clasped Finn’s shoulder, “This is my friend, Finn. We’re looking for two NRI agents, Rose Tico and Sena.”   
“Tico and Sena,” Jariah pondered, scuffling his black boot against the pool of sewage water at their feet. He snapped his fingers, “I remember now! Those are the two girls that survived Hays Minor.”  
“They would be the ones,” Poe chuckled. “Rawk’s place still running?”   
“Why?” Jariah curiously studied Finn. “You know Rawk doesn’t like outsiders. Think your friend here can hang?”   
“Of course he can,” Poe shrugged, staring nervously at Finn. “Why do you ask?”   
“I don’t like him. He looks stuck up. He’s not an Imp is he?” Jariah’s bright green eyes narrowed. “Because there are two things I hate more than anything in this damn galaxy: Jedi and stuck up Imperials.”  
Jedi? Finn tried to meet Poe’s eyes but he wouldn’t look at him. With the anger he could feel rolling off Jariah's bitter tone, this resentment went deep into the root of his soul, sprouting and consuming him.  
“No, he’s no Imp,” Poe said, “and if our friends are still alive, Rawk’s our only option.”  
“Why?” Finn interjected, tired of feeling left out of the loop.   
“It’s a safehouse,” Jariah flashed him a sinister sneer, “for the scum and dirt of this planet on the run or anyone looking to have a good time really. It’s why New Republic agents loved to slum it there from time to time back in the heydays, Poe here included. Only place NR personnel could drink without anyone catching them breaking protocols, among other things. You like to have a good time, Finny?”  
“It’s Finn,” he spat out, not liking this “friendly” demeanor this man had taken with him and Poe.   
Jariah shrugged. Out of his trouser pocket he pulled out a small luminous stick, the deep yellow liquid sloshed within. “Suit yourself,” Jariah wrapped an arm around Poe. “You know, you and Finny make a good pair. He’s full-feathered, like you. You both oughta learn to live a little. End of the world and all.”   
Poe shook his head and peeled Jariah’s arm off from his shoulder. Jariah downed the liquid and chunked the container into the sidewalk.  
“Try to keep up, narglatchs!”

—

Poe found himself following Jariah deeper into the lower level, being cautious to keep his eyes casted down to avoid looking at someone “the wrong” way. He’d had his fair share of run-ins to know better. The durasteel in the buildings surrounding him looked as if one wrong touch and they would crumble beneath his fingertips. Old scrap metals and broken speeder pieces lay piled up on the floor, the sewer water more prominently seeping the dirt beneath their feet.   
This was the beauty of Rawk’s place. His little, seedy safehouse forced you to look at the brokenness that afflicted the lower levels. Forced you to confront what the upper levels tried to neatly tuck away. He shoved his hands into the pocket of the overcoat— _ Ben’s _ overcoat, he reminded himself. He felt around, for a split second wondering if maybe there was a message left inside. But his hands felt nothing, only air and bantha leather.   
Lando Calrissian had given Ben this overcoat for his sixteenth birthday. It was meant to be a joke, a jab at Ben’s dark wardrobe. But Ben had taken it in stride, seizing every opportunity to sport the overcoat just to prove he was capable of wearing an attire that wasn’t black or dark blue.   
It was strange, even now, how Poe still had such a difficult time differentiating that boy from the man who hid behind his mask. He knew he shouldn’t do this, shouldn’t reminisce on the past. It had never led anyone to any good, yet he couldn’t help it. Walking in the city, through its beauty and darkness it contained, it hit him like a ton of bricks.   
This was why Ben had loved Coruscant. A facade of riches and contentment, intricately constructed over the lower decks to masquerade its secrets, of the countless citizens Coruscant had failed to protect over centuries. The lower decks harbored unrest, bitterness, and anger. Living, breathing beings who all represented this world’s biggest failures. The ones it had been and continued to be unable to save.   
At the start of the Draven Crisis, when the Hapes population was wiped out by a nanovirus and Mara Jade Skywalker murderer remained a mystery, the lower levels in Coruscant were among the first of many sectors that were raided by Sector Security. A poor attempt to locate the “terrorists.” Members of the Rinnrivin Di cartel and The Brotherhood of Wires and Bones were among the two contenders, given their history of experimenting with bioweapons. It hadn't even been that long since a similar virus had been dropped on Urrdorf City, infecting thousands of resident Durans. But then again, that virus had only been the prototype, yet it resulted in hundreds of citizens death.   
With that danger in mind, the anxiety of not knowing when these groups would strike again, Sector Security continued their raid. Rounding up anyone who even looked like they would be in a criminal syndicate.   
Citizens, not just in Coruscant, but in other Core Worlds such as Corellia and Arkanis, rallied. Everything had spiraled out of control the days that followed. Poe had watched on the HoloNews police donning new riot gear, carelessly waving new Z6 riot control batons, using brute force to provoke peaceful protestors outside the Senate buildings, throwing dispersal gas into the otherwise un-chaotic crowds. Someone had been killed in the chaos, a boy who was fourteen. He had been trying to protect two smaller children who had gotten separated from their parents. A police officer had fired a blaster by accident believing him to be dangerous. All because he had run to them, waving his hands for them to stop.   
The outcry that followed: Historical buildings set a blaze, the same virus that was released on Hapes was released into the upper level drinking water, resulting in millions of inhabitants becoming sick and killing thousands, creating countless more riots. Ben had looked so tired. His dark brown eyes sunken from what little sleep he had been getting, a sort of slump in his shoulders.  _ Defeated _ . Ben had said he wasn’t surprised by the chaos, that he didn’t condone violence but he could understand why the citizens were so angry. 

_ “They’re oppressed, Poe,” Ben gritted out. His eyes grew damp with tears. “Think about it. Maybe the senator will build them a new school, or a new clinic with free healthcare to apologize, but it’s still not enough. This is karking messed up. The only reason anyone in this hellhole remembers them is when they need someone to blame. Not all of the citizens who live in the lower decks are criminals or bad people. They're just misunderstood. They’re forgotten, left all alone to rot. Can you honestly blame any of them for finally snapping?”  _

Poe hadn’t understood what he had been trying to say then but he did now. _Just like you_ , Poe thought silently. _Coruscant was just like you. I’m sorry I never understood before, Ben.  
_ “Oof! Watch where you're going!” Finn yelled.   
Poe turned around, fighting back a laugh as he watched Finn unsuccessfully push what was a very screechy drunk Rodian off him. Jariah glanced over and began to mutter a melody that went in rhythm with the screeching under his breath. It took Poe a second to understand the Rodian's screech was actually singing. Finn deposited the Rodian's body onto the floor with mild disgust as the Rodian popped the cork of his champagne bottle and drank. Poe felt a subtle quaver underneath his feet, a deep thumping bass emanating a rhythm that laced around his bones, swaying to the heavy beat. They were close.  
Rounding the corner, the group came among a brown, run down durasteel door, two large pipes ran up the side of the building to its right. Gray, rusted metal contrasted with the brown decay, jutting out to create a U-shape on the durasteel, before continuing to create perpendicular lines and ending at an upside-down U-shape. A large, circular silver metal was mounted between the gray U-shape on the durasteel. Hanging from it was a long eyestalk, it’s circular orb receptors turned a bright orange when Jariah banged on the door.  
“Whaddayawant?!” it’s a nasal electronic voice asked.  
Poe chuckled, Rawk’s TT-8L gatekeeper droid had been modified with a humor program, making it the most smart-ass and cunning droids Poe had ever met.   
“Hey handsome,” Jariah grinned, “tell Rawk I got something for him.”  
“Did he just call a droid ‘handsome?’” Finn whispered incredulously.   
Poe shrugged in a “beats-me” manner and smiled when TT-8L stalked out to shine it’s bright light obnoxiously into his face. “Hey, Tee,” Poe waved. He elbowed Finn gently when TT-8L shown his light on him. The droid hummed before the durasteel doors hissed open, revealing a long dark stairway that led further down into the lower decks. The loud prominent party music blasted from within. Jariah practically skipped down the stairs, whooping anticipation.   
Finn grabbed Poe’s hand. He liked the way it felt. “Poe,” he said, “are you sure this is a good idea?”  
Poe grimaced, if only for the briefest second. Finn had probably never seen anything like what was waiting for them down in Rawk’s safehouse, he wasn’t sure of how he felt about Finn having a glimpse of what Poe had been like in his early twenties.   
That wasn’t him anymore. Not that he had partied in an extravagant quantity to begin with, but still. It felt wrong somehow. That while he was here surrounded by friends, Finn was being brainwashed and forced to live his youth in barracks. Yet he didn’t want to keep this part of himself hidden from Finn.   
Poe squeezed Finn’s hand, reeling in the sense of how strong and warm he felt. Finn knew him. If anything this would be a new experience for the former stormtrooper. “It’ll be fun,” Poe grinned. “Just do what I do and they won’t eat you alive.”  
He heard Finn chuckle as he began descending down the steps, before Finn’s worried voice shot out in the darkness. “Wait, eat me alive?!”  
“I can’t hear you!” Poe laughed, letting the uplifting technological beat be his guide into the neon-lit room. Another durasteel door blocked the entrance, a large skinwolf face spray painted on, its sinister red eyes daring anyone to enter. Poe waited until Finn was besides him, practically panting from how fast he had run down the steps.   
“Poe, wait!” Finn reached for his arm, but too late. Poe pushed open the door to the site of what seemed like hundred young adults dancing and swaying to the loud bass of the techno bass vibrating through the room. The blinding neon-lights shined and shot through different arrays, striking at odd angles throughout the dance floor.   
He spotted the stage, a four-armed alien was manning the controls for the lights and music, a ridiculously oversized headset rested around his neck. He was bopping his head to the beat, equally as lost as the crowd in the rhythm. Above them from the ceiling hung circular apparatuses, Zeltron and Twi'lek dancers twirled, suspended from them. Hanging upside down or sitting before contorting their bodies to have their legs pointed out, one leg through the hoop and other at a bended angle before with a dancer’s grace to propel themselves into a spin. Their revealing outfits did little to hide their figures from the imagination.   
“This isn’t a safehouse!” Finn yelled in his ear. “Or a cantina! This is a nightclub!”  
Poe didn’t answer, swept away by the vibrant and celebratory energy of the room. He could almost forget about the war. _Almost._ Using the flashy outfits of Coruscant’s inhabitants, the jewels so dazzling they were a beacon of their own, Poe didn’t need to wait for the neon lights to hit the floor to know where to go. “Just follow me and you’ll see!” Poe yelled back into Finn’s ear.  
Taking his hand, he nonchalantly walked into the dance floor, being careful to sway and jump when the beat required its participants to. A woman dressed in an oversized black fur coat, a black low plunging v-neck leotard, and fishnet stocking smiled shyly at him. Her golden Corusca gem necklace twinkling underneath the lights. She had on red lipstick and had golden dust decorating her high cheekbones, her black hair was up in a neat bun, and her bangs fell over her forehead.   
Poe politely smiled back and she lifted her shot glass to her lips and drank. Her friend, a male dressed in a similar fashion wore a black exercise suit with a sparking cape over it, his blond hair gelled into double head-fins, whispered something into her ear and she laughed. He held a bottle of Xizor champagne in his hands. Come to think of it, most of the people on the dance floor had champagne bottles in their hands. _Weirdos_. Must be some new trend the young people were enjoying.   
A male Anzat wiggled over close to Finn, showing off what in his drunk mind must have been excellent dance moves. He reminded Poe of a brain worm before it died. The male flashed Finn a bright smile, licking his lips. His tentacle-like proboscises that extended from his cheeks curled. Annoyed, Poe pushed past all the sticky bodies. Taking Finn’s hand into his own and pulling him further away. Because… well, because he wanted to protect Finn. That was it. Anzantis could eat people’s brains. “Be careful with Anzantis”, Poe shouted, “they’ll turn your brain into soup!”  
Finn looked stricken, nervously turning back to where the Anzanti was now stalking for his next prey.   
Suddenly the beat began to beat frantically as it always did. “People of Coruscant!” The four-armed alien yelled into his headset. His voice captured the crowd's attention. “Now I want you to grab your bottles! Put them up in the air!”   
Oh no. All around him Poe saw hands being lifted, a free ad for Xizor and Daruvvian champagne. He could make out in between the neon lights some had their holorecorders out, ready to capture the scene.   
“Now shake, shake, shake that bottle and make it go!”  
He heard the pop of corks as cold liquid splayed across his face. He could make out various species and humanoids squealing as they sprayed one another, he noticed four Twi’lek gathered around a large Rodian pouring the champagne’s bottle liquid into his mouth. Foam began to fall from the ceiling, the Twi’lek and Zeltron dancers fascinating everyone below by their daring moves.   
Somehow unable to not get carried away by this moment, Poe began to laugh. Joining in on the jumping, feeling out-dated, unable to follow along with the newer dance moves of today’s youth. He felt someone staring at him, and he noticed Finn out of the corner of his eyes. He had such a found expression of his face, as if he didn’t know what to make of this side of Poe. Finn chuckled before tilting his head in the direction they were supposed to be going in. Poe cleaned his face on the sleeve of his overcoat before making his way to Finn.   
Together they exited the dance floor to a much different atmosphere, the cantina side of Rawk’s safehouse. To their left were big screens broadcasting podraces, along with pool tables and betting desks. Gamblers sat around with credits of every size and color stacked to their face. Beings with different cartel symbols branded on their skin fraternized with one another.   
“Wow,” Finn explained as they passed two humanoid males in deep conversation, one sported a Crimson Dawn symbol on his wrist and the other a Black Sun symbol on his neck. “Never thought I would live to see the day. Don’t those guys hate each other?”  
“Not here,” Poe led him to their right towards the bar area. “Rawk’s a stickler for his rules. Says everyone here is running from something. Literally or figuratively. Might as well enjoy the ride and find common ground while you escape.”  
“Hey, isn’t that your friend?” Finn pointed at Jariah, who was leaning against a wall. He had his eyes closed, working up a sweat as whatever he had taken earlier coursed through his system.   
“Jariah!” Poe tapped him lightly.   
He opened his brown eyes and grinned. “About time. I got us drinks already” Jariah walked them past Dor Namethians, Cahdra-Fans, humans, Twi'leks alike who were sitting at different tables, enjoying the elegant lounge. Walking away from the bar were three Anzanti females, dressed in dark red leotards, fishnets, high knee boots, and black sparkling capes. Their hair was lacquered with glittering stars, falling down to their waist. Jariah winked at them and they giggled, rushing into the nightclub scene.   
“Is that the new teenage fashion?” Poe scoffed, unable to hide the mirth in his tone. He reached for his drink, noticing someone was hunched down behind the countertop.   
“Seems to be,” a familiar voice gruffed. “Now, were you planning on saying hello to an old friend or were you gonna be rude and hope I didn’t see you again?” the voice straightened up. Poe would have recognized that dark brown beard, kind brown eyes, and black bun anywhere.  
“Rawk!”   
Rawk shook his head. His wrinkled, olive face set into a frown, but Poe didn’t buy it. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, nice to see you too, Dameron. How long has it been?”   
“About four years,” Poe answers honestly.   
Rawk shrugged and eyed the Rodian Splice. “Made you your usual. Not sure what your friend here wanted but I went with water and ice based on Jariah’s description.”  
Poe bit his lip, he watched Finn seeth by the insult.   
“You got a name?” Rawk asked Finn.   
“Finn.”   
“Finn what?”  
Finn shrugged, sliding in next to Poe and pushing his rejected drink back towards Rawk. “Just Finn. And an Ardees will do… please.”  
Rawk laughed, his hands working quickly to prepare the drink. “What brings you in, Dameron and Finn?”   
“I’m trying to find Rose Tico and Sena. We’re with the Resistance and we need to-“  
Rawk’s eyebrows lifted high into his hairline, he slid a glass shot over to Finn. “I thought Myri was making fun of me when she told me. You’ve resorted to terrorism now?”  
“It’s not terrorism,” Poe snapped. “The First Order destroyed Hosnian Prime, they’ve taken over the majority of the Outer Rims, and now they’re here. They need to be stopped.”   
“Eh, kid,” Rawk rested his elbows on the marble countertop, his eyes studying Poe. “You’ve never stopped to think how many innocent people died when your ragtag group destroyed Starkiller Base?”  
“They were hardly innocent,” Finn said harshly.   
“I’m not saying all,” Rawk raised his brow at Finn, “but some. You don’t think there were personnel there who just saw Starkiller as a means to feed their families?”  
Finn shook his head, bringing his drink slowly to his lips. “Doubt it.”   
Rawk scoffed. “This one seems to have it all figured out, doesn’t he?”  
“What I know is, there are Star Destroyers looming over you. There are stormtroopers who are over running your city. The First Order has invaded Coruscant and you people are acting like it’s any other day. There is a war out there, people are _dying_!” Finn angrily said, his chest heaving from the fury he was holding within.   
Rawk and Jariah stared at him curiously, assessing Finn’s tense jaw and the way his knuckles were gripping his drink. Rawk broke the silence by letting out a loud grunt, slapping Jariah on the back and motioning towards a booth on the right of the bar counter. “Son, take these two to their table.”   
“Wait, you never answered my question,” Poe protested.   
“Your table, Dameron,” Jariah tugged on his arm. Jariah slid in next to Finn, much to his dismay. Poe sighed and slumped down next to Jariah, reminiscing on what at the time had felt like dark days, but bright days in Poe’s memory. He had come here during the Draven Crisis with his squadron mates: Syal Antilles, her stepbrother, Snap Wexley, Dinger, Rogue Leader Gavin Darklighter, Lensi, Kral Nevil, Lig Panat, Tik, Inyri Forge, Anni Capstan, Alinn Varth and Jedi Knight Velora.   
They had joked and laughed in this same table, bonded together by the lives they had saved and lost.   
After Chief of State Borsk had disbanded what was left of Rogue Squadron after the Draven Crisis, everyone had gone their separate ways. Velora undertook a dangerous secret mission for the Jedi Order, disappearing months before the events of Kef Bir occurred. Snap and Poe had joined the Resistance. Syal had remained loyal to the New Republic for some time, joining V-Sword Squadron, before joining the Resistance. Her younger sister, Myri though, a New Republic Intelligence field agent, had remained loyal to the New Republic. It put a heavy strain on the Antilles household. Snap had confided in him weeks ago that it had been some time since Syal or even Wedge had heard from her. He hoped wherever Myri was, she was safe.  
“What do you see there, Finn?” Jariah pointed towards a group gathered around a large projection table to their far right. The male species were dressed in expensive tailored suits, the women in long gowns with Arkanian and Hapan jewels sewn into them. Dragon tattoos snaked from their cheek to their forehead. They were not unlike any other sentient being on this side of Rawk’s safehouse, but then a fragile looking male Sakiyan dressed in dirty trousers and red tunic scurried over to them.   
“Really rich people and some poor old guy?”   
Jariah snickered. “Good one. But no. _Look closer_.”   
Poe gave Finn a small smile, rolling his eyes for his friend to just play along. Finn sighed, clearly irritated but did so anyways. They observed the Sakiyan look around nervously before taking a seat. The woman dressed in a long golden gown with Arkanis jewels sewn into its short puffed sleeve, her white cloak held together around her neck with a red lapsel, smiled at him. Though her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. The air around them seems to tense, before the holographic diagram hovered over the console on their table. A diagram of a TIE Fighter appeared, followed by diagrams of a scout walker, TIE Bomber and TIE Interceptor. Finn inhaled sharply, as if he had been punched in the gutt. “They’re arms dealers for the First Order?”  
Jariah shook his head. “Not exactly. Those guys right there are Dragon Nest. Not once what they were before the Hapes disaster, but their gist is pretty simple. They steal from arm dealers, resell what they’ve stolen for double the price to worlds that can’t defend themselves. They come here to offer the delivery jobs to the people that need to get away, either running from angry cartel bosses or wanted for crimes they didn’t commit. All for a small fee. Like old Screeger there. Heard he hasn’t paid his bail bonds to Crimson Dawn. Their leader, Q’ira, is not known for being a forgiving lady.”   
“Well, at least they're stealing from the bad guys and helping the good,” Finn said.  
Jariah gave Finn a looked that resembled pity. Poe glanced down at his drink, shaking it around to distract himself from the uncomfortable silence that had plagued their table.   
“Help the- Druk, look… you can’t,” Jariah ran his fingers through his long braids in an attempt to put his words in order. Poe observed Screeger shake his head at the diagram of the TIE Interceptor. The woman pressed her mouth into a tight line. Her fingers danced over the keys of the console, winking out of existence the diagram before being replaced by a new diagram that appeared to be a New Republic T-70 X-wing.   
Finn’s brows wrinkled in confusion, he bit his lower lip. Trying to make sense of what he was witnessing. The woman leaned in and whispered something to Screeger’s ear. He nodded and the large Ramoan male slid a handful of credits over to him. Screeger thanked them, or that’s what Poe assumed he was doing, given he had put his hands in a prayer position and was bowing, then scurried off again.   
“Arm dealers don’t have an allegiance, Finny. Neither does Dragon Nest. They get rich stealing from the bad guys and the good guys. The same way arm dealers get rich by selling to the bad guys and the good guys.” Jariah tapped his fingers on the table, leaning in to whisper into Finn’s ear, “The Resistance? The First Order? The New Republic? The Jedi? Even the Imperial Remnants. They’re all the same machine—and that machine’s a meat grinder. Do you help a meat grinder by jumping into it, Finny?”  
“No.” Finn casted his eyes down.  
“But that’s what you and Poe here have done by joining the Resistance. In a way, maybe you are helping the galaxy but that’s semantics, I guess. What do you think will happen after you win? That the New Republic will suddenly start caring about its citizens? That they’ll care about what happens to someone like me or Screeger? The old one sure didn’t. The new one even less. You asked Rawk earlier how it is that we people can party and have a good time while the rest of the galaxy suffers. See here. The lower levels have never changed, never mattered who has been in power. The Empire. The New Republic. It’s all the same. Nothing’s ever gonna change that. Might as well live our lives to the fullest.”   
“You don’t know that,” Finn said. The confused expression on his face was replaced by dismay. “We could tell General Organa. We can help-"  
“ _Tah-koh tee womp rat e'nachu_ , what’s she gonna do? Leia Organa was once Minister of State. She did nothing to help us either. The only ones who maybe actually cared were the Imperial Remnants. I hate Imps as much as the next guy but their Head of State— _Man_ , Jag Fel had something going. He set up those mission houses in the Outer and Mid Rims to provide aid to the people and planets who were left in ruins by the Thrawn Campaign and the Imperial-New Republic war. Fel called it his ‘Victory Without War’ campaign. But even then, that was a dig at some throw-away remark Han Solo made during an interview. Besides there was something in it for him too. Heard he was using those mission houses to spy on NR activities. But,” Jariah shrugged, “it kept food in hungry citizens' mouths, gave jobs to those who needed it most. Lowering the crime rates. So, in my book, whatever selfish reasons he had, he at least helped people.”   
“The Imperial Remnants are bad too, Jariah,” Finn replied.   
“Not as bad as we think,” Jariah scoffed. “Under Jag Fel, it’s become a place you can go live in if you're into the whole one ruler thing. No one associates them with Palpatine anymore. There’s a reason why the First Order broke away from them. They knew it was becoming something else—with the Chiss and women Moffs and all. But what do I know, right? Besides, they got their own little resistance going on too. Not as bold as your crew but they're protecting the little guys who they can save.”   
Poe’s eyes widened in surprise. As far as he knew, Jag Fel’s Imperial Remnant remained hidden away in their fortified planet of Bastion. General Organa figured that would be the last world the First Order would strike after the Core Worlds fell. They would need what little remained of the New Republic fleet to make it past the planet’s barricade.  
When Poe was a child, he had watched the live footage on the HoloNet News of the final battle between the New Republic and the Imperial Remnants. Both sides had reached a standstill, similar to the blockade he and Finn had encountered. The Remnant had destroyed a nearby vacant planet’s moon and hauled the shards using gravitational technology to surround the planet. After two weeks, the New Republic had no choice but to sue for peace. The Imperials won eight sectors, and “peace” was a loose term. Jag Fel did attempt to form a Galactic Federation Triumvirate between the two factions and the Jedi and clearly that had failed.   
But to know Fel was endangering the lives of his people by venturing out to protect smaller Outer Rim planets… Poe didn’t know if he found that comforting or infuriating. After all, there was something in it for Fel, just like the mission house’s had served as a cover up for spying on New Republic activities, he was sure this “help” was a cover up to gather information on First Order movements.   
Poe a mental note to ask Leia if it would be wise to send a representative to Bastion. Maybe it was time Leia apologized to Fel for not believing him about Hays Minor. But who could honestly blame her, back then the New Republic was clueless on who the First Order was. All they knew was the only beings in the galaxy who had weapons who could destroy a planet's gravitational levels were the Imperial Remnants. Then again, Leia had literally shot Jag Fel’s TIE _Predator_ down during the fight. It would take a lot more than a verbal apology to move past that.   
“The Resistance will be able to save more once the Jedi rejoin the fight. We’ve heard rumors that Luke Skywalker is still alive.”   
“Finn!” Poe whispered, shaking his head frantically. It’s not that he didn’t trust Jariah, but he didn’t trust him enough for that.  
A hardness settled over Jariah’s jaws, locking in place. His eyes glazed with the same look Poe had seen Nexus stalk their prey before striking. “The Jedi are dead. Even if Skywalker is alive, I’ll make sure he and his damned order stays dead.”  
“You're the first person I’ve ever met who hates the Jedi,” Finn said.  
Jariah chuckled, taking a long sip of his glass shot. “If they're dead, they can’t put those mind control whammies on you. They’re freaks, man! They can control your mind, make you do what they want. _Even kill yourself_. And they’ve only gotten sneakier in the past seven years since Borsk disbanded them. The survivors blend in real good now, can’t hardly tell them apart from normal folks anymore.”  
“Wasn’t that the whole point of Borsk’s treaty with the Jedi? For them to blend in?” Poe spoke up. He had noticed the way Finn had begun to retreat into himself, unsure if it was because Finn was worrying about Rey again or because he remembered whatever horror he had witnessed in his time with the First Order, Poe wouldn’t stand for it. He shot Finn an apologetic smile before scowling at Jariah. “Stop telling ghost stories. Everyone knows you just have to whisper ‘Jedi’ for you to get wobbly knees, Jariah.”   
Finn cracked a smile before hesitantly staring at the Dragon Nest cartel table, his smile vanishing when he noticed a woman holding a small child in her arms had ventured over to the table.   
“I know what the Jedi are capable of, _pateesa_. I saw Luke Skywalker kill my father.” Jariah’s voice dripped with his ice. “You really believe the Jedi are the guardians of the galaxy? More like a bunch of chuff sucking gravel maggots.”   
Finn’s whole body snapped to face Jariah. “What do you mean Luke Skywalker killed your father?” Finn demanded.   
Jariah rolled his eyes. “Oh, so now you're interested, huh?”   
While Finn tried to persuade Jariah for more information, Poe scanned the tables. Apart from Dragon Nest, the only patrons left were a group of shabby looking young humanoid adults, a group of elderly sentients engrossed at the gambling table, and Rawk cleaning the countertops. Still no sign of Rose or Sena. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a fist sized, disc shaped beetle resting on the ledge of their table, looking right at him. It’s small round eyes analyzing him.   
Poe flicked it and huffed. He was quickly becoming impatient with whatever game Rawk was playing, and if he had to hear Finn worry about Rey again, because he just knew Jariah’s conversation with them would prompt Finn to find a way to communicate with her, he was going to lose it. Even when she wasn’t on a mission with them, Rey seemed to somehow permanently haunt them as their official third wheel.   
“It happened the day Hays Minor was destroyed,” Jariah said at last. “The Chief of State sent out a message for all nearby civilian vessels to aid in the evacuation. The Mandalorians were among the first to answer. Fett—being friends with the Mando leader on account of Fett’s father being a Mando himself once upon a time—joined the evacuation too. My father was among the men he took with him.”   
Finn leaned in, intrigued. “Fett, as in, the Boba Fett who runs the most notorious cartel in Tatooine?”  
Poe rolled his eyes. “You’ve been spending too much time with Rey,” he muttered. Finn flashed him a playful glare and reached out to gently shove Poe’s shoulder. Poe mockingly rubbed the sore spot.   
“He’d be the one.” Jariah grinned. His smile quickly faded as his eyes seemed to glaze over, lost in a memory. “I was aboard my dad’s blast boat. We had just gotten outta hyperspace. Fett gave us our orders, stay near the Mandos, follow their lead. Everyone was trying to figure out why Imperial and New Republic fighters were suddenly turning on each other when we got Luke Skywalker’s message. Said he and his Jedi squadron needed backup to get his nephew aboard Nickel One station. Had a ‘ _feeling_ ’ the woman responsible for the death of Fett’s daughter was there. And Fett reacted the way any man whose baby girl was murdered in cold blood would. The head Mando sent a team with Skywalker’s nephew. The rest of us stayed to cover the Jedi squadron. And that should have been the end of it right? We protect them, they protect us.”   
Jariah glanced away, cursing under his breath. Poe felt something in him break. If Poe’s math was correct, Jariah was about eighteen now. He had been ten when his father had died. Poe hadn’t even known his story until Ben had explained it to him. All Poe knew was one night he had walked into Rawk’s to find a small, scrawny boy cleaning the countertops, in deep conversation with Ben and Tai. Poe to this day didn’t quite understand what exactly had cemented that admiration young Jariah held towards Ben, but he supposed it had something to do with Ben apologizing to him for what the Jedi and his uncle had done. It was the first and only apology Jariah had probably ever received in his life.   
It made him sad to see how tired Jariah looked. Gone was that little boy who had wiped the countertops and told wild stories to the patrons. That boy had been crushed by the weight of bitterness somewhere along the way in the last four years and Poe hadn’t been there to stop it.   
“So imagine my surprise when I see Mando ships getting blown to pieces. Us too. Skywalker knew getting through all those Star Destroyers was a suicide run. So he used us as coverage. Decided we were expendable, not worthy like his precious Jedi. When my father realized what was happening, he grabbed me and shoved me into an escape pod. just in time before our ship blew up. The last words my father ever told me was to close my eyes.”   
“But-” Finn gasped, “But why?”  
Jariah shrugged and gestured towards Poe. “Ask him, he was friends with the Jedi back then.”   
“You were fine with Ben,” Poe shot back.  
“Solo was different,” Jariah snipped. “He wasn’t much different than me. He didn’t even want to be a Jedi. He told me so himself. It was forced on him. That’s why he wasn’t a stuck up, good for nothing, son of a mudscuffer like the other Jedi, or a _dopa meekie ya maya stupa_ like his uncle and mother.”   
Poe felt his cheek grow warm. “You take that back right now, Jariah Syn. Leia Organa is an amazing woman. She is a _hero_.”  
“And your heroes aren’t allowed to have flaws?” Jariah grinned. “She sent Ben away when he was what? Ten? She let her own brother turn her son into a weapon. You gonna sit there and tell me you didn’t think it was wrong for Skywalker to send his sixteen-year-old nephew to kill the woman who killed his wife? Or why Leia Organa even allowed it in the first place? You’ve never asked yourself why it had to be Ben?”   
Poe looked away, closing his hands into a tight fist. It wasn’t that he hadn’t asked those questions. He could blatantly remember that one day he had actually spoken up to the Solos, more specifically Han Solo, about the way they let Ben wander the galaxy unrestricted. Ben had gone rogue and disappeared for seven weeks after the events on Hays Minor. Han and Leia’s nonchalant attitude about not knowing where their teenage son had gone off to had surprised him.   
Not to mention, Ben’s disappearance had only made the scrutiny the Jedi Order had been placed under much worse. The Mandalorians had withdrawn their allegiance to the New Republic and stated they would not return as long as the New Republic remained allied with “sorcerer heathens.” Chief of State Borsk had been forced to issue an executive order to assign each Jedi Master and Jedi Knight a “Jedi Observer” to ensure the Jedi wouldn’t misuse their trust again.  
Granted, Poe had been equally as horrified as the rest of the galaxy at the savage way Luke Skywalker had allowed the Mandalorians and Fett’s people to die. Poe couldn’t imagine the effect that must have had on Ben. The Holozines wasted no time in comparing Luke Skywalker to Darth Vader. The even bolder HoloNet talk shows were even beginning to compare Ben’s reckless actions to those of Anakin Skywalker's during his final days as a Jedi Knight. 

_"_ _ You wouldn’t understand, Poe,” Han Solo ran his fingers through his hair nervously. “I asked the kid to stay. Told him he’d only make this investigation worse. But he never listens to me.”   
_ _ "You don’t need to ask him, Han. You need to  _ tell _ him. Ben is sixteen years old. You're his  _ father _.”  _

As for why it had to be Ben to go after Lumiya, well… When Poe had asked Ben why it couldn’t be anyone else, considering Luke Skywalker had a whole order of more experienced Jedi. He had gently told Ben he had a choice, he didn’t have to if he didn’t want to. Ben hated killing anyone and preferred to knock them unconscious most if not all the time. But Ben had muttered something about this being personal, something Poe wouldn’t understand. It had to do with his grandfather and besides, Ben was less likely to fall to the darkside after killing Lumiya than Luke Skywalker would be.   
“Let it go, Jariah,” Poe managed to grit out.   
Jariah continued to stare him down before resuming his conversation with Finn.  “ All the New Republic did was assign observers to babysit the Jedi. There was ‘talk’ of arresting Skywalker but it never happened. You think they cared about me after their freighters found me in my escape pod? Hell no. They dumped me back at Fett’s. He’s the one who brought me here to Rawk so I would have a home. Fett said my father would never shut up about wanting better for me. He didn’t want me to become a criminal like him. Pretty sure Fett had figured out my dad would sneak me into the Imperial Mission School they had set up on Tatooine so I could learn to read and write.” He sighed. “Fett gave me enough creds to start a savings, told me maybe one day when I have enough I can go to that big fancy university they got up in the upper levels. Till then, I’m stuck bounty hunting. It’s not much better than what my dad used to do, but I make enough money to survive, helps old Rawk run the place too.”   
“I’m sorry,” Finn whispered.   
Jariah sighed. “Look, my point is, good guys, bad guys—them just a bunch of made-up words to keep everyone fighting. It keeps the money spinning around. In the end, if the New Republic or the First Order win, it doesn’t matter. It’s a never ending cycle no one can stop. None of us are ever truly free.”   
“Those are some interesting choice of words coming from someone like you, Jariah Syn.”   
Poe, Finn, and Jariah simultaneously grabbed their blasters and aimed at the woman who was sitting in front of them. How had she gotten there? She had been so quiet.   
“Do you want to tell them the truth? Or shall I?” She nonchalantly reached with a gloved hand for Poe’s Rodian Splice he had been nursing. She brought the drink to her dark red lips.   
Jariah looked ready to murder her. His vibrant green eyes unreadable as he studied the woman. She brushed her long black hair that was lacquered with glittering roses off her shoulders. A dark red chiffon scarf was wrapped around her neck, covering the deep V-line of her black leotard. Unlike the fashion of the other young adults, this woman had a black overcoat with diamond shaped patterns on the sleeve in lieu of a cape. If it weren’t for her dark eyeliner that accentuated her almond eyes, she almost reminded Poe of someone he was sure he would never see again. One of the many faces of Crimson Squadron he had lost in the bombing run during the battle of D'Qar.   
“ _ Paige _ ?” he whispered.   
Jariah spat his drink. “Are you blind? Hey, Rawk!” He called out behind him, “How much spice did you put in his drink?”   
Poe heard Rawk’s thunderous laugh, but it sounded so far away. He was too concentrated on Rose, at the way the corner of her lip tugged into a sardonic smirk.   
She took a long sip before directing her attention at someone behind Poe. “And you said the glitter would be a dead giveaway.”   
“They’re roses, Rose,” a harsh feminine voice quipped, “it’s not my fault he’s stupid.”   
Poe whirled, unsure of where this other woman had appeared from. She stood behind their booth, hands planted firmly at her hips. She was dressed in a deep blue jumpsuit, zipped snuggly to her neck. Her black hair was slicked back in a high ponytail, her bangs fell in soft wisps just a centimeter below her eyebrows. She had foregone any cosmetics besides a bright red shade of lipstick. She eyed Jariah suspiciously.   
“Sena,” Jariah smirked, “I was wondering what was taking you and your  _ chik youngee pateesa _ so long.”  
Finn, who appeared to be lost in this whole exchange, glanced nervously as Sena took a seat next to Rose.   
“Wow, Rose,” Poe stammered, “I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you. It’s because of all the-” he gestured to his face and she shrugged. He smiled softly at her. “It’s good to see you, it’s been a long time.”   
“Can’t say I feel the same way, Dameron.” Rose slid his empty glass back toward him.   
Sena snorted. “She has a little makeshift Poe doll she stabs with tiny needles every chance she gets.”   
Rose glared at her friend, her eyes dark and narrow. Poe sighed, at a loss for words. He didn’t know what he could say to make any of this better. A sorry wouldn’t do, he doubted that even if he got on his knees and groveled it would make up for what was his fault—his failure—for giving the order to destroy that First Order Dreadnaught.   
And Poe had only met Rose a couple of times before, back when he was still a pilot for the New Republic. She, her sister Paige, and their best friend, Sena, were the only survivors of Hays Minor. She had been a quiet girl, letting Paige do most of the talking. He knew the story though, of how she had sliced through Nickel One station security system to broadcast a distress signal. It was of no surprise to anyone when she joined the New Republic Intelligence’s subdivision of Internal Security.   
From what little else Paige had told him, the Tico sisters disagreed on what was the right course of action after the destruction of the Jedi Academy. Rose and Sena had remained loyal to the New Republic, both reluctant to join the Resistance until Hosnian Prime. Paige had resigned the same day Syal had and never looked back.   
“Wait,” Finn asked, “you’re Commander Rose Tico?”   
“Yes,” Rose glanced at Finn, “who the hell are-” her eyes widened, a blush blossomed on her cheek and she began to stammer. Finn looked perplexed, unsure of what to do.   
“Are you okay?” he asked politely.   
“No way,” she said breathlessly. “You're Finn!  _ The _ Finn!”   
He squinted. “ _ The  _ Finn?”  
Rose was practically beaming. “Sorry. Doing- Doing talking with Resistance heroes is not my forte.” She visibly cringed at how her words had come out. “Doing talking.”  
“Breathe,” Sena told her, and Rose did.   
Rose took a deep breath and extended out her hand across the table. “I’m Rose.”   
Finn shook it. He spoke gently. “Hi.”   
Poe’s eyes shot between the two of them. That “Hi” had sounded a touch breathless too.   
“But um,” Finn coughed, retreating his hand, “I’m not a Hero. It is nice to finally meet you, Rose.”   
“Oh, but you are a hero!” Rose proclaimed proudly. “Isn’t that right, Sena?”  
Sena analytically studied Finn’s features. She was so quiet, Finn began squirming uncomfortably as Jariah just looked on, mildly amused.   
“You are the stormtrooper who defected from the First Order and helped this  _ echuta _ take down Starkiller Base, aren’t you?” Sena finally asked.   
“Hey!” Poe protested. But he was ignored, all eyes on the table were fixed on Finn.   
“Well, yes-” Finn tried to say, but Rose interrupted him.   
“When we heard about it, Paige—my sister—said, ‘Rose, that’s a real hero. Knows right from wrong and doesn’t run away when it gets hard,’ You’re the reason why Sena and I joined the Resistance. Though, technically we kind of had no choice, considering most of the New Republic was obliterated and it was a smart analytical move for both sides and-”  
“You're an Imp?!” Jariah scowled at Finn. “Dameron, you said he wasn’t an Imp!”   
“Oh, as if you're any better,” Rose shot back. She looked back at Finn. “I wouldn’t associate with the likes of Jariah Syn. He’s a murderer.”   
With her free hand she placed the disc shaped beetle Poe had flicked off the table earlier. Poe let out a slight gasp, he felt like an idiot for not recognizing what it was sooner. It was a thud bug, a new holocam tech innovated by New Republic Intelligence that resembled the Vong’s infamous biotechnology. Rose carcassed the bug’s wing slowly with her index finger, a bright blue hue of light projected out of the beetle’s small yellow retinas. It was a mugshot of Jariah, smiling ruefully at the holocam.  
“Jariah Syn. Son of Zareb Syn,” Rose began. “Member of the Peace Brigade guild. A group of fanatic, deranged bounty hunters who started their own paramilitary group in hopes of cleansing the galaxy from the Jedi. The Peace Brigade has been silently working with the First Order Invasion Force over the last seven years. They turn in Jedi who are breaking the New Republic-Jedi peace treaty and anyone that so much as looks Force-sensitive. Their most recent crimes include partaking in the disruption of planetary governments and capturing New Republic officials.”   
Poe let out a long breath, running his hand over his face in frustration. He felt so numb, he didn’t even know what the proper reaction to this reveal rendered. He glanced at Finn through his fingers, who just looked… Well, disappointed. He stared at Jariah expectantly, waiting for a rebuttal. Because that’s the type of person Finn was—always trying to see the good in everyone.   
Jariah only shrugged, bringing his drink to his lips in a passive aggressive challenge. “What’s your point, my  _ nechaska _ ?”   
She curled her small button nose in disgust at the endearment. “I just want to know how you sleep at night.”  
“I sleep great actually.” His eyes flashed at her plunging low cut mischievously. “If you ever find yourself lonely, you can come see for yourself.”   
“Talk to me like that again,” she said sweetly, “and I’ll shoot you somewhere where it’ll really hurt.”   
Jariah laughed. “Listen Rose, I don’t ask questions. I just do my job. Turn in the freaks and collect my creds. What happens to them isn’t my problem.”   
“What do you think the Knights of Ren do with them? Offer them sweet sand cookies in exchange for joining the darkside?” She scoffed. “Everyone knows the Knights of Ren kill Jedi. Kylo Ren is the Jedi Killer. He killed all those students on Kef Bir.”   
Poe plucked Finn’s drink out of his hand and took a long sip, letting the alcohol go straight to his head. It wasn’t the smartest of choices, Poe would probably categorize this in the “I’ll regret it later” box, but he didn’t know what to make of this. The irony of it all. He wondered if Ben and Jariah had crossed paths, if Ben had recognized Jariah behind his mask. Or if Jariah had recognized Ben. But he doubted it, Jariah was observant. He would have figured out in seconds who the man who called himself Kylo Ren was and sold that information for credits.   
“Nah,” Jariah said quietly, “the guys in the high ranks, the ones who catch the real difficult  _ jedaii _ , they say some lady was running the show up until a couple of years ago. Then some girl, or at least they think it's a girl, hard to tell with their masks, took over. She gives Kylo Ren the easy ones to hunt. The ones who don’t put up much of a fight. He and his Knights are just a front for whoever is really pulling the strings in the First Order.”   
“Right,” Rose rolled her eyes, “because a bunch of drunkard bounty hunters are more reliable than respectable New Republic Intelligence officers who have years of field experience. If there was someone else running the show, we would know.”   
Jariah’s eyes flashed with anger. “What are you trying to say, Tico? That I’m a liar?”   
“All I’m saying is I find it hard to take the words of anyone who turns in children to be slaughtered.”   
“Woah, stop right there. I may be a scoundrel but I am an honest man,” Jariah said. “I don’t turn in kids. They are not at fault for who they are. As long as no  _ jedaii _ taints them, they'll be alright. They can learn to blend in or something.”   
“Wow,” Sena scoffed, “you're a real piece of work, you know that?”   
“A real piece of work who chose the winning side,” Jariah said. “I suggest you gundarks do the same before your fate is sealed.”   
“You have sealed your own fate by siding with the First Order,” Finn spoke quietly. “What do you think will happen when they no longer have a use for you?”   
“I’ll figure it out. I always do.” Jariah smiled.   
Suddenly, Poe heard a mysterious voice coming through his earpiece. Based on the way the others wrinkled their brows, so did they.   
“You got trouble, Dameron. Phasma’s approaching your location.”  
Poe opened his mouth to ask Rose if they knew who this was, but taking in Rose and Sena’s startled expression, they didn’t know who this mysterious voice was either. “Who is this?” Poe questioned.  
“You should get out of there— _ now _ !”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters repurposed from legends:  
> Rawk’s personality is based on Nat Rawk, aka Nat Skywalker from the Legacy comics who left the Jedi Order and renounced his Skywalker legacy.  
> Jariah Syn- his character and personality was repurposed from legends, he’s 23 in the comics but we aged him down to 18 for the story.  
> There where 2 reasons we chose to bring him into the story:  
> 1\. He witnessed his father being murdered by a Jedi in the comics. That single event changed the trajectory of his life and it’s how he ends up meeting Cade Skywalker. He hated the Jedi with a passion, and turned them into the One Sith for credits. His dialogue with Finn about the Jedi being freaks was taken from the comics.  
> 2\. We thought his character really nailed the theme of war profiting and how the New Republic failed in numerous ways in the legacy comics. The same theme TLJ portrayed through DJ, though for me personally, I felt less of an emotional impact for DJ than I did for Jariah.  
> Jag Fel- aka Jagged Fel, was the Head of state then Emperor of the imperial remnants in the legends continuum. He’s a bit older in this version, for our story purpose he’s currently 43. He was also Jaina Solo’s hubby 🤧 best ship ever. #SorryZekk #ifyouknowyouknow
> 
> Past Events mentioned:  
> \- The tibits of the riots, the poisoning of the water in Coruscant, and sector security rounding up civilians in Coruscant and other Core world who looked like terrorist was actually taken from the “Legacy of the Force” novels. During the second galactic civil war, the GAG (legends version of sector security) raided corellian districts and either deported the people back to Corellia or put them in a “holding cell” for questioning.  
> \- Leia Organa shooting Jag Fel down was inspired from the Dark Nest trilogy when Leia did shoot Jag’s fighter in the middle of a dogfight  
> \- sneaking through the tunnels was inspired by Ben Skywalker and Seha Dorvald  
> \- the imperial mission houses was a movement from legends Jag Fel began to help planets left in economic ruins from the Vong invasion, and it was a dig at a remark Han Solo made sarcastically about how you can’t have “Victory without war”  
> \- Jariah running away from an angry twilek after sleeping with his wife was one of my favorite scenes in the Legacy comics  
> \- Rawk’s safehouse was inspired by the safehouse in the legacy comics  
> \- the conversation between Tai and Ben in the tunnels was inspired from TROKR comics. I love that our boy had an actual support system, and I really do think if *spoilers* Ren hadn’t killed Tai, Ben wouldn’t have turned.  
>  Wait! Before lastly include:  
> -Nickel One Station was a little nod to Jacen Solo/Darth Caedus. It played a significant role in “Legacy of the force: Invincible”  
> \- the Peace Brigade was a group from legends that we repurposed. during the Vong war, they took it upon themselves to turn in Jedi (even children) and New Republic official leaders over to the Vong.  
> \- Poe telling Han he needed to tell Ben what to do instead of asking him was inspired by a convo Kyp Duron had with Luke Skywalker regarding Ben Skywalker and the way Ben lacked parental supervision and the way Luke and Mara let Ben pretty much do whatever he wanted despite being only 15  
> \- Luke Skywalker using Mandos and Fett’s people as a human shield for the Jedi to get Ben aboard Nickle One station was taken from “Legacy of the Force: Invinsible”, when Luke sacrificed the Mando fleet that was helping them to get Jaina onboard.  
> \- lastly, in this version Ben DID NOT kill anyone on purpose when the Jedi academy was destroyed. It’ll be similar to what happened in TROKR. But please keep in mind as of right now, all the characters are under the impression Kylo Ren was the one who “destroyed it all” (TFA, Han Solo)


End file.
